


Familiar Faces

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions), VelkynKarma



Series: Don't Let's Start [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alternate Reality, Crossover, Gen, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Clone, Shiro (Voltron) Whump, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-20 20:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelkynKarma/pseuds/VelkynKarma
Summary: While investigating an odd rift in the Black Lion, Shiro and Ryou get pulled through to a strange world with militant inhabitants.Luckily, they find help from unexpected allies.





	1. Shiro

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: This is a crossover not with another franchise, but with another _fanfic_. While you should be able to come into this fic being familiar with only one series or the other and still understand, the full context of character actions and motivations will be deeper if you have read both Parallel by Proxy and Don't Let's Start. 
> 
> This fic will contain spoilers through 'Got a Weak Heart' in Don't Let's Start (and all of adjacent does not apply here), and through 'The Best Lies' of Parallel by Proxy.

Shiro wakes to the sensation of many odd voices above him, and to the touch of unfamiliar hands.

His head still feels cloudy and confused, but he comes up fighting anyway, lashing out viciously with his right hand as he snaps upright. His sudden movement dislodges several of the hands. Based on the resistance his fist meets, and the resulting yelp and the cry of pain that follows, he also manages to give at least one of his attackers a nasty bruise. 

Then the rest of his body and mind catches up with him, and he’s suddenly and acutely aware of just how much he  _ aches.  _ His whole body is sore; he doesn’t think here’s a single part of him that isn’t bruised. His head throbs, and his thoughts whirl and spin in his skull. He struggles to maintain his attacking momentum and get to his feet, but he stumbles and sways to the left instead, and barely makes it to his knees.

He blinks blearily. Everything is so  _ dark.  _ His eyes struggle to focus, but he’s not sure what he’s looking for. There’s movement all around him, and he can only assume those are threats. But when he tries to swing for one of them again with his fist he cuts right through it, and realizes he’s seeing double. His vision swims all over again.

“This one’s a warrior,” someone snaps. There’s a sense of urgency and warning to the voice. Shiro can almost feel it. “Bind him! Hurry!”

_ No,  _ Shiro thinks. They’re definitely talking about him, and he’s not letting himself get captured. His blurry vision starts to come back into focus a little again, but too slow. He sees approaching enemies and struggles to fight them off, but he’s uncoordinated and his brain is scrambled. Four of them manage to clamp their arms around his and hold him still, keeping him on his knees. 

He struggles against them, but they keep him pinned, and he’s not strong enough to fight them. Not yet, anyway. Whatever happened to him is slowing him down, stealing his focus. When he tries to get one of his feet beneath him, they kick it out from under him again, and force him back to his knees.

A single clear thought manages to break through the spinning in his head.  _ Use your hand, you idiot!  _

He tries, but his Galra hand is unresponsive. Shiro twists his head to the side, trying to get a good look at his own right palm where his arm is wrenched back and pinned by one of his captors, as he tries again. And again, there’s nothing—the bright purple glow of his weaponized hand doesn’t come. Instead, something wrapped around his forearm like a bracer glimmers pale blue, and flickers out the moment Shiro stops concentrating on activating his arm.

_ That’s...that thing is stopping me,  _ Shiro realizes. How? He squints at it in confusion—his eyes are starting to get more used to the darkness, now. But the object, whatever it is, doesn’t look all that special. It doesn’t even look like any kind of technology he’s ever seen across the universes. It just looks like a bracer made of wood. 

What happened? He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to remember. 

_ You must go, paladins. _

_ “Go? Go where? What’s happening?” _

_ You must go,  _ now. 

_ “What’s it talking about? There’s nowhere to go! We’re thousands of feet in the air!”  _

_ “Black, what’s  _ happening  _ to you?” _

_ Go! Now! _

“Bind his arms,” someone orders. “Then get him on his feet.” 

Shiro’s eyes snap open. This time, when he looks around, everything is more in focus, and his vision doesn’t swim as much as before. It’s still dark—it seems to be night, wherever he is—but at least he can make things out better.

It’s enough to make out his captors, at least. He’s never seen anyone like them before. They’re humanoids, with approximately the same proportions. They look about the same height as Shiro too, although they’re a little more stretched out and sticklike than the average human, and it makes them seem taller than they are. 

But that’s about where the similarities to humans end. These people have dark skin of greens and browns, with a bark-like texture that looks rough and strangely patterned. Their hands only have three fingers each, but while they look thin and brittle, their grips are surprisingly strong. And instead of hair, they have strange, plant-like tendrils or petals of some kind, each in stunningly vibrant colors and shapes that stand out surprisingly well in the gloom. 

The speaker steps closer, staring down at their captive. Shiro stares right back unflinchingly, refusing to let himself show any pain or confusion. The speaker’s eyes are eerie to look at—a very light blue, so pale they’re almost white. It gives the unsettling impression that he’s blind, even though he’s obviously focusing his full attention on Shiro. His brilliantly violet tendril-hair waves just slightly in the breeze—and it takes Shiro a moment to realize that there  _ isn’t  _ any wind. 

“A strange quintessence,” the speaker mutters after a moment, staring at Shiro. “It doesn’t belong.”

“He has metal,” one of Shiro’s captors says. Shiro can all but feel his eagerness in his voice.

“Metal with  _ quintessence,”  _ another adds, excited.

“And strange technology.”

“Perhaps he arrived with the beast—”

“—obviously an Outsider—”

“—the call must have drawn them to the rift—”

“—sign that we will begin soon—”

“—do with him?”

“—lock him with the other one—”

“Yes, the council will want to interrogate him—”

Shiro shakes his head as what he guesses are at least fifteen or twenty of these strange beings all clamor at once, discussing amongst themselves. The noise is difficult enough to make sense of, with so many of them talking, but Shiro swears he can hear them in his head, too. Not like any sort of thought-speech, but more like...well, almost like the way the Black Lion communicates with him. Every word any one of these beings says seems to have a reflected image, impression or emotion simultaneously in his head. But with so many thoughts all at once, his mind is rapidly becoming a chaotic mess, and it’s still spinning from...from whatever happened. 

He bites back a groan as he tries to make sense of the words.  _ The other one,  _ he catches with dismay. Ryou had been with him, hadn’t he? He remembers Ryou asking what was happening. Had he been caught, too? 

Another of the creatures with brilliant orange petals arrives with a long length of what Shiro swears is some kind of vine, glowing just faintly in the gloom. They approach carefully, and Shiro tenses. He’s still not quite ready for a fight—he still aches, and he’s still confused—but this might be his only opportunity. 

But before he has a chance, a third of the creatures steps forward, this one with deep red petal-hair. He holds an item that’s reminiscent of the Olkari’s flower firearms—it looks for all the world like a rifle made out of wood and leaves—and warns, “Do not make trouble, or I will shoot. We can harvest your metal dead just as easily as alive.”

Shiro can feel the intent behind those words in his head. He doesn’t doubt it for a second. 

_ Need to bide my time,  _ he tells himself. Now isn’t going to present a good chance to run. These people are too wary. He needs to play along until he can recover, and find a good opportunity to escape when he’s capable. 

So he behaves as the creature with the vine rope steps forward and binds his hands together at the wrist in front of him. She knows what she’s doing. The knots are firm and secure, and she’s careful to not touch the strange wooden bracer on Shiro’s arm that seems to deactivate his Galra prosthesis’ abilities. When he tries to subtly test the strength of his bindings after she steps away, he finds that despite being made of what he’s sure are just vines, they’re as strong as steel cables. He’s not breaking these, not if he can’t activate his Galra arm.

Some of the creatures that had originally held him still haul him upright to his feet, and Shiro staggers on unsteady limbs as he tries to regain his footing. The creatures don’t let him fall, but they don’t do so with any measure of kindness. Two keep their hands under his arms after, probably to keep him from trying to flee. Not that Shiro would try—even if he felt coordinated enough to do so, he can still see at least one of those wooden rifles trained on him, and he wouldn’t be surprised if more soldiers watched him from behind.

“Move,” the one with purple hair tendrils orders. Shiro thinks this one might be the leader of this group. 

The two creatures with their arms under his own try to push Shiro forward, but Shiro braces his legs and refuses to budge. “Where am I?” he asks instead. “What are you doing with me?”

The leader of the group regards him indifferently. “You trespass in our lands,” he says after a moment. “You are our prisoner, Outsider. The council will want to speak with you.”

“Outsider?” Shiro asks, frowning. He can  _ hear  _ the importance of the word, both in speech and in the ways the thoughts are emphasized in his head. “What does that mean?”

“Move,” the leader says, ignoring his question. The soldiers on either side of Shiro push him forward, more forcefully this time. Shiro stumbles forward, unable to resist further. 

They spend quite some time walking. There’s nothing Shiro can do to free himself—not with at least twenty of these whoever-they-are’s surrounding him, many with weapons trained on him. So he spends as much time trying to observe his surroundings as possible. Anything can help in an escape. He doesn’t know when his opportunity will come, but he has to be ready.

He observes his captives first. All of them wear some kind of military uniform, and many carry the strange plant-like rifles, or short wooden rods strapped to their hips. He notes with disgust that one of them carries his helmet. Another toys with his bayard, turning it over and over in brittle-looking hands curiously. 

They seem fascinated with the Altean technology—but not, Shiro notes, confused by it. This is definitely an intelligent race, and the longer he observes them, the more he’s reminded of the Olkari. He doesn’t see a hint of metal on any of their uniforms, and their weapons all seem organic, but underestimating them based on their so-called ‘primitive’ appearances would clearly be a bad idea.

His surroundings are more difficult to discern. He’s pretty sure they’re in a forest, but it’s like no forest he’s ever walked through. The trees are incredibly tall, towering so high he can’t see where they end in the gloom above. They don’t seem to have branches, though—just twirling leaves that grow out in all directions. Some of the larger ones are wide enough around that five or six people could fit into the trunk’s base, and they have polyps that glimmer a pale blue growing at the base of the branch-leaves. They are the only light in the entire forest, providing just barely enough illumination to see by.

Regardless of the tree size, every single one of those strange growths sways slowly in place, and the twirling leaves flutter gently in the gloom, like they’re moving to some unseen current or wind that Shiro can’t quite sense. It’s unsettling, to see the entire forest moving slowly around him, like the whole place is alive. Between the movement and the strange darkness, Shiro feels like he’s stumbling along the bottom of an ocean, dark and oppressive. He can practically feel the water pressing down on him, and the air feels too thick to breathe properly. 

_ That’s all in your head,  _ he tells himself sharply, and does his best to ignore it. 

They march Shiro for a while, chattering amongst themselves. They seem excited about his metal arm and the rest of his armor, but other than that Shiro can’t pick out anything really useful. They don’t mention other prisoners again, and Ryou isn’t dragged out of the forest at any point to be marched alongside him. Shiro hopes that’s a good thing. He hopes it means Ryou’s still out there, and alive. 

It’s hard to tell how much time passes—this place is so strange and unsettling, Shiro has no real way to measure. But eventually the swaying trees start to spread apart and grow smaller, and they break out of the treeline entirely. Without the tall, alien trees to block the sky, Shiro can now see the reason for the gloom: this place has no sun or moon at all. He doesn’t even see stars—just a nearly endless expanse of dusky, dark sky that isn’t quite the pitch black of the dead of midnight. 

Nearly endless, nearly uniform, other than two shredded strips of light that rip half-mile holes in the otherwise dark sky like tears in fabric.  _ The rift.  _ Not one, but two. 

_ Where the hell am I?  _ Shiro thinks, staring at the sky, and the frightening holes gouged into the air itself.  _ Where did those things take us? _ The lack of constellations, even unfamiliar ones, sends a chill down his spine. Even out in the depths of space—even in the astral plane—there are stars, even if they’re unrecognizable ones. Shiro can take comfort in that, even in the most difficult of situations. Here, there’s nothing, and between that and the shredded rifts in the air, everything feels so unnatural that it raises an almost primal alarm in him. 

His captors shove him forward again, and Shiro stumbles as he hastily tries to regain his balance, tearing his eyes away from the eerie sky. That’s when he first sets sights on his captors’ destination.

It  _ almost,  _ in a strange way, reminds him of the Garrison. There’s a number of large buildings strewn about miles of open lots. Some are clearly hangars of some kind, with their massive open doors, and Shiro can see other vehicles strewn about the area. Others are probably storage facilities or workshops. All of them surround one massive building in the center, at least half the size of the Castle of Lions, several stories tall and still wide enough to dominate the majority of the complex. 

But the major difference between the Garrison and this location are the building materials. Nothing that Shiro sees here is made of the sleek, modern metals of the Garrison or the Castle of Lions or the Galra Empire. Everything here appears organic. The buildings look as though they were  _ grown  _ out of the earth, made of a strange chitinous bark-like material. Others look as though they were sculpted out of natural hills or outcroppings of rock right where they were, so that the landscape became a part of the structures rather than being torn away and replaced by something artificial. Everything is coated in little lines and swirls of strange pale lights. They look almost bioluminescent, and light the compound just as well as electric lights or Altean crystals.

It’s impressive. It might almost be beautiful, the incorporation of nature and civilization, if it weren’t set in such an unnatural-feeling, eerie place. And if it weren’t so...blatantly militaristic. Naturally formed or no, Shiro has no doubt in his mind that this complex is dangerous. He doesn’t know what these people want, but he already has a good idea that their desires aren’t in line with Voltron’s objectives, nor do they bode well for him.

Shiro’s captors push him towards the largest building in the center of the complex, and Shiro has no choice but to move. They pass several guards at one of the entrances, but the purple-tendriled soldier speaks to them and gestures to Shiro, and the guards let them pass. Once inside, Shiro’s twenty or so captors split up down various hallways, and Shiro watches with frustration as two of them bear his bayard and helmet away to parts unknown. 

Five stay with him, including the purple-tendriled leader. Everything inside looks like the same sturdy hardwood with the same whorls and rings that look as though they’d simply  _ always  _ grown as halls. They’re lit with the same strange bioluminescent designs as outside, casting everything in a soft, pale glow. The soldiers march him through more than a dozen different halls and turns, and the longer they walk the more obvious it is that this entire complex is maze-like on the inside. 

Shiro does his best to remember the turns and doors taken anyway. His head feels clear enough to remember, and even if he’s still sore, he feels more coordinated than he did when he was first caught. He’ll need to know how to escape from here. He doesn’t intend to stay long.

Once again, he’s not sure how long they walk—time is so hard to track in this place. But they do finally reach what is clearly the prison block, because they pass through two more guard checkpoints, before moving into a hallway filled with sturdy doors and barred windows. Shiro doesn’t see many occupants through those windows, and none that aren’t people like his captors. 

_ They called me ‘Outsider,’  _ Shiro muses.  _ Do they not get a lot of visitors here? Wherever ‘here’ is?  _

They reach what will clearly be Shiro’s cell, but don’t open it right away. Shiro is surprised by this at first—they seem eager to be rid of him. But one of his guards steps up to the door, aims his plant-rifle through the barred window, and says sharply, “Step away, and stand back against the wall. If you do not, I will shoot.”

_ I’ve got a cellmate,  _ Shiro notes. That’s odd, with the number of empty cells they have here. Why would they stick him with somebody else?  _ Whoever it is, maybe we can work together to break out. _

Whoever is inside must comply, because the guard nods to the others, and gestures for them to open the door. He still keeps his gun trained on the little barred window, though. Apparently they’re expecting trouble. That could be good or bad for Shiro.

The guards crack the door open, and shove Shiro through unceremoniously, finally releasing his arms. His wrists are still bound in front of him, and he stumbles at the sudden push, nearly overbalancing. It takes him a moment to recover his footing, and in the few ticks it takes for him to whirl around and try to get to the door again, it slams shut in his face. 

Shiro snarls in frustration, and slams both his bound fists on the door from the inside. It might be made of wood, but it certainly feels as sturdy as thick metal, and doesn’t even rattle as he smashes his fists against it two more times. 

“ _ Damn  _ it!” he curses. It had been a long shot, but even so…

“What the  _ hell? _ ” someone in the cell hisses. 

Shiro turns quickly, belatedly remembering his new cellmate—the one that had to be kept at gunpoint. Having his back to anyone that dangerous in prison could mean trouble. The cell isn’t that big, and it’s lit with the same soft bioluminescent glow, enough for him to easily make out his fellow prisoner in ticks. 

It’s  _ Shiro.  _

Literally Shiro, in every sense of the word. Same face, same dark hair with white bangs, same undercut, same scar. Even the same armor—his cellmate is completely decked out in Black Paladin armor, missing only his helmet. His arms are also bound in front of him with the same iron-like vines, and he also has a strange wooden bracer clamped over his right arm, presumably to inhibit a prosthesis hidden beneath the armor. 

“What?” Shiro says dumbly, but it’s all he can manage. Of all the possibilities for someone to find in a cell in a strange place like this, the very  _ last  _ thing he’d expect is  _ himself.  _

His first thought is that this must be a trick of some kind. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been held captive in his mind, or with illusions. The people that had captured him were unsettling, and there was  _ something  _ messed up about this place. Maybe these cells were meant to distract him, or make him confront himself, or something. 

But that doesn’t make sense. If it was an illusion to keep him preoccupied, the guards wouldn’t have seen this person. They wouldn’t have treated him like an actual threat. Whoever this is, he is  _ real  _ on some level. 

The next stupid thought is that it’s Ryou somehow. Ryou’s the only other person with his face in this place that he knows of. But that doesn’t make sense, either. This other person doesn’t have Ryou’s graying hair, and he’s wearing black armor—not Ryou’s deep, nearly-black purple. Besides, Ryou would have recognized him immediately.

The more reasonable line of thought is that maybe it’s not  _ Ryou,  _ but this is  _ probably  _ another clone. That would make more sense. Shiro knows there had been other clones in... _ production _ ...although Ryou was the only one that had actually been released. That they knew of, anyway. Maybe there were more being used for something else, or maybe this one had escaped on his own. 

Either way, best to approach with caution. If he’s a clone, any bad intentions won’t be his fault—but he’d still act on them. He wouldn’t know any better. 

“You okay?” the other-Shiro asks, after one long, stunned dobosh staring across at each other. 

“What?”

“You’re bleeding,” the other-Shiro says, gesturing with his bound hands at Shiro’s head. He doesn’t move closer, and seems to be regarding Shiro with caution of his own. Shiro can’t really blame him. If he didn’t know about the possibility of clones, this would probably be quite confusing. 

Shiro raises his own bound hands cautiously to his head, and feels around with his left hand. He winces as his thumb presses against a tender cut on the side of his head, and comes away with a few dried flakes of blood. That would certainly explain the headache, and the way his thoughts had been a jumble when he first woke. “Fine, I think,” he says after a moment, when the other-Shiro is clearly waiting on an answer. “I think it’s stopped.” 

“Great.” Other-Shiro regards him warily, and then finally says, “So. You wouldn’t mind introducing yourself, would you?”

Shiro frowns at him. “My name’s Takashi Shirogane. I’m a paladin of Voltron.”

“Funny,” other-Shiro says. “That’s also my line.”

Shiro shrugs—somewhat awkwardly, with his arms still bound. They watch each other for a moment. Shiro has a feeling they’re  _ both  _ trying to evaluate the other, and it’s all manner of strange. He hasn’t had this awkward an interaction with someone since before Ryou even took his own name, when he’d been identical to Shiro in nearly every capacity. Back then, they both thought exactly the same, to the point where conversations were always stalemated and any kind of interaction never really went anywhere.

It was like trying to play chess with yourself. It just didn’t work, no matter how hard you tried. 

Shiro finally breaks the awkward silence after a long moment. “How long have you been imprisoned here?” Maybe if he can get a timeline, he can figure out how long this clone might have been here, or what for. 

The other-Shiro frowns, but also seems to appreciate that the stalemate is broken, at least for the moment. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “It’s hard to tell, in this place. Time is...strange. I could have been here for a couple vargas or a couple movements, for all I know.” 

That is not really the answer Shiro wanted to hear...in  _ any  _ capacity. Not only does it not help place this clone’s timeline, but it brings up  _ other  _ concerns. Specifically, concerns for Ryou. Ryou’s failsafe has a time limit—if he can’t even tell when that limit is reached, and he’s out there alone...damn it, he can’t even recognize his own symptoms. He could be in very real danger and not know it.

_ One problem at a time,  _ Shiro tells himself forcefully.  _ He can handle himself for a little while. You need to get out first so you can find him. And you need to deal with this new problem, too.  _

“How did you get to this place?” Other-Shiro asks, unaware of Shiro’s thoughts. Apparently they’re trading off on questions. That’s fine by Shiro, but this other-Shiro seems curiously calm about meeting somebody else who looks like him. 

_ Would I have panicked in this situation?  _ Shiro wonders. He’s honestly not sure. He’d met Ryou under such strange circumstances it’s hard to judge otherwise. And even if he  _ had  _ been concerned, Shiro’s always been exceptional at masking his worries. Any clone of his would be good at doing the same—Ryou’s proof enough of that.

“Through a rift,” Shiro answers, truthfully enough. There’s no point in concealing that much. Even if this is a spy, there’s not much he could do with that information. 

But the other-Shiro seems surprised by this answer, and breathes in sharply. “With the Black Lion?” he presses.

Shiro frowns at his reaction, but nods. “Yes,” he says slowly. “Using the wings.” 

This definitely gets a reaction; other-Shiro stares him down, and mutters in confusion, “There’s no way you could know that at all, anymore.”

Shiro is equally confused. Something  _ very  _ strange is going on here. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It  _ just  _ happened.” He’s pretty sure, anyway. He remembers flying through the rift, but then things get a little jumbled. 

“Yeah,” other-Shiro says, “and that’s the problem. That doesn’t make sense.” 

They regard each other with identical expressions of confusion. Shiro has to agree with him on one thing: none of this makes sense. Not even if this  _ was  _ a clone. This other-Shiro obviously already remembers going through the rift—but assuming his memories come from Shiro, then how could he have that memory  _ before  _ Shiro does? Shiro has known the Black Lion’s whereabouts for feebs; there’s no way any other clone could have gone on a joyride through a rift with it. They’d have known if it was stolen immediately. 

Unless…

“You’re from another reality!” they both say, at nearly the exact same time. 

That actually works. That makes  _ sense,  _ in a weird sort of way. It wouldn’t be the first time team Voltron has passed through a rift and found people they knew but also didn’t on the other side. Shiro hadn’t been a part of that adventure, but he knows it’s possible. He’s already passed through a rift into another reality; he supposes at this point anything’s possible, including meeting another version of himself.

Other-Shiro clearly thinks the same, based on their near simultaneous exclamations. Both stare across at the other in surprise, and then break into nearly identical relieved laughs at the same time.

Damn it all, this is  _ weird. _ He should be more used to this, after meeting Ryou. But somehow it’s even  _ weirder _ knowing this person is entirely justified acting similarly, because that’s  _ also _ really him.

“I guess we know why they put us in the same cell,” Shiro finally says. “I was wondering why I had a cellmate, with so many empty ones.”

“Same,” other-Shiro admits. “Though I have a feeling they’re going to regret it. How many prison breaks do  _ you _ have under your belt?”

“A fair few,” Shiro admits. “Some…unconventional. You?”

“About the same,” other-Shiro says. “And I’m definitely ready to get out of here.”

“I’ll bet,” Shiro says. “I say we let ourselves out.”

“Easier said than done,” other-Shiro says. “This cell’s pretty solid. No weak points. Only way out is the door. I was planning on jumping them the next time they came in, but that didn’t work out so well.” He shrugs awkwardly with his bound hands.

“It’d be easier if we weren’t tied up.” Shiro stares down at his bound wrists thoughtfully, and then at the strange wooden bracer around his right arm. He tries to light his Galra arm up again by reflex, but just like before, the bracer glows a pale blue as long as he tries to use the weapon. The moment he drops concentration, it winks out again.

He can’t reach it with his own hands tied like this, but he’s not alone anymore. “Can you get this…inhibitor thing off me? If you can, we might have a shot breaking out of here.”

Other-Shiro obligingly steps close enough to try, awkwardly twisting his bound hands to try and grasp the wooden bracer and tug it free. It doesn’t budge. Other-Shiro tries breaking it, deactivating it, and rotating it to try and look for some kind of hinge to target instead, but all to no avail. When they switch, and Shiro tries to dislodge other-Shiro’s inhibitor bracer instead, the results are the same.

“That’s a bust,” Other-Shiro finally says with a sigh. “I don’t think these are coming off without whatever passes for a key here.”

“There has to be  _ some _ way,” Shiro says, pacing around the edges of the cell. He knows the other Shiro has probably already inspected this place top to bottom, but he finds himself doing it again anyway, just to be sure for himself. Other-Shiro must understand, because he doesn’t bother to complain about Shiro re-checking his work at all.

Instead he grumbles, leaning back against one of the walls. “This is not how this mission was supposed to go. We took precautions for a  _ reason.” _

“You found a rift in your reality too, obviously,” Shiro notes, as he runs his bound hands over one of the walls. That would explain the multiple eerie tears he’d seen in the sky. The other one must go to a different reality— _ this  _ Shiro’s reality.

“Yes,” other-Shiro says. “The team said it wasn’t as strong as the last one, or as big. We figured we wouldn’t risk all of Voltron—but the Black Lion could handle it easily enough, with the wings.”

Shiro nods. The story is about the same as his, more or less. “Same here,” he says. “The quintessence distortions emanating from this place were insane, but it didn’t need all of Voltron. We knew it would attract the Galra, though. Figured it was better to check it out first.”

This time it’s other-Shiro’s turn to nod in agreement. But then he hesitates. “Did…did something happen to your Black Lion? When you went through the rift?”

Shiro frowns. “I’m…not sure,” he admits. “My head’s still a little fuzzy. From what I guess was a crash.”

Other-Shiro gives him a sympathetic look. “She got…quiet, all of a sudden,” he says slowly. “I’ve never seen her like that before. Like she was falling asleep.”

Shiro barely has time to puzzle over the ‘she’ pronoun before the words make something _ click _ into place in his head again. A vision of a vast, dusky, starless sky in front of them, with a single jagged tear streaking through it, and then….

You must go, paladins,  _ the Black Lion intones suddenly. And its voice is unexpectedly…weak. The imagery isn’t as vibrant or clear; the conveyed impressions are muddied and indistinct. It seems almost drowsy…but that shouldn’t be possible for a Lion of Voltron. _

_ “Go?” Shiro asks, alarmed. “Go where? What’s happening?” He tries to pull at one of the control levers to steer the Black Lion around back the way they’d come—something about this rift is dangerous, clearly. But the Black Lion is sluggish and unresponsive, and it barely wobbles in the air. The control lever is rigid, and Shiro has to muscle it forward to make even a little progress. _

You must go, now, _ the Black Lion insists sleepily. _

_ “What’s it talking about?” Ryou asks, alarmed, braced against the ceiling and one of the dashboards. “There’s nowhere to go! We’re thousands of feet in the air!” _

_ Even as he says it, the Black Lion starts to sink as its propulsion cuts out entirely. The Black Lion goes into freefall, nose to the ground. Even as Shiro fights to regain lift, he can feel the Black Lion’s systems going dark, one by one, as the Lion’s power fades. _

_ “Black!” he yells. “What’s happening to you?” _

Go!  _ The Black Lion growls. _ Now!  _ And with the very last of its strength, Shiro can feel it drawing all of its remaining power—sluggishly, so sluggishly—into one last effort. Its jaw opens wide, and the cabin’s hatch whips open, and the wind comes hurtling in. _

_ Ryou’s dragged out first with a yelp of dismay. Shiro makes a grab for him but misses, and Ryou is flung out of the Black Lion’s jaws into the rift world, thousands of feet in the air. _

_ Shiro curses, but before he can try to regain control of the Black Lion to pull off a rescue, the Lion itself acts.  _ Go, _ it murmurs, sleepily now, and Shiro’s chair is hurled back towards the hatch in an all too familiar eject sequence. With a surprised yell, he, too, is flung out of the Lion’s mouth. _

_ He hastily kicks on his jetpack to try and recover, and the Black Lion spins away beneath him as it plummets. His last real view of it is its golden eyes and brilliant blue highlights winking out as the last of its power disappears. _

_ He’s lost sight of Ryou completely, but then he doesn’t have time to think about it anymore. The ground is rushing up fast, too fast, and his jetpack doesn’t have enough power to sustain him constantly like this, and— _

Shiro hisses in surprise. “Same,” he realizes. “That was the kickstart my brain needed. It was the same for us. It panicked and ejected us before it just…feel asleep completely.”

Other-Shiro raises an eyebrow. “ ‘Us’?” he asks. “Someone else came here with you?”

“Yes,” Shiro says. “And if you haven’t heard any commotion with anyone else being captured—“

“Nothing besides you.”

“—then I’m willing to guess he’s still out there. Hopefully in a good position for a rescue.”

“Great,” Other-Shiro says. “At least that’s  _ some _ good news. Anybody I’d know? I wonder if we even have the same paladin lineup in our realities.”

That’s a good question. Shiro opens his mouth to mention it’s Ryou, and then pauses. How the hell is he supposed to explain the whole ‘clone’ thing? It sounds completely far fetched even in his reality, and he and Ryou have lived it. To someone from another reality, it will probably sound entirely fabricated. Slav had said there was only a very small percentage of realities where the whole ‘clone’ event was even possible, and Shiro has no reason to doubt him on that.

“You…sort of know him,” Shiro says slowly, rushing to think of how to explain. He finally decides to quit beating around the bush a moment later and just go for it. “This will probably sound really bizarre, but I swear it’s true. In my reality, Haggar had this project where she created clones of me and tried to replace me with one. He defected and is on Voltron’s side now. That’s who came with me.”

He glances at other-Shiro, expecting skepticism or blatant disbelief. Maybe being stared at like a crazy person. What he doesn’t expect is other-Shiro’s genuinely impressed, pleasantly surprised expression.

“You have a Ryou too?” other-Shiro asks.

Shiro stares. “Wait…how do you know his name? I didn’t say that yet.” More importantly, _ why wasn’t he being looked at like a crazy person? _

Other-Shiro waves the question away as best as he can with his bound hands. “The name is obvious, isn’t it?” he states more than asks.

It isn’t. It isn’t obvious at all, no matter how much this other-Shiro seems to think it should be.

“You’re not surprised by this,” Shiro notes, finally.

Other-Shiro actually laughs. “Are you kidding? I’ve been trying to think about how to explain the whole ‘clone’ thing for a couple doboshes now. This saves so much time.”

“You…also have a clone,” Shiro says cautiously. “Who isn’t still being brainwashed? Who knows exactly what he is?”

“Yes,” other-Shiro answers, “and he’ll refuse to let you forget it. More importantly, he’s _ also  _ here. He came with me in the Black Lion, too. We also got force-ejected at the last minute. I’m not sure where he ended up...I’m not even sure if he realized what was happening.” He looks uneasy for a moment.

“But that means we have  _ two _ allies on the outside,” Shiro says with sudden understanding.

“Yes,” other-Shiro agrees. “And as long as even one of them can avoid getting caught, maybe we’ll have a chance.”

That’s reassuring. Shiro knows, if Ryou is capable, he’ll fight tooth and nail to find a way in for a rescue. Based on other-Shiro’s relaxed confidence has he speaks of his own clone, he obviously feels the same way. Even if neither of them can find a way to break out of this cell, at least they still have a few chances left to escape.

That hope is enough to let Shiro return to exploring the cell with renewed vigor, testing every part of every wall, examining the door, and peering out through the single barred window. He doesn’t find a way out, just like other-Shiro had already confirmed, unfortunately. But he does at least learn a little bit about the guard patrol schedule. There’s always someone out there, but maybe he and this other-Shiro can figure out how to tag-team someone when they’re visited.

As he searches, he and the other-Shiro exchange what little intel they have on their captors, pooling their limited knowledge as best as they can. Shiro describes everything he’s observed of the complex, the hallway turns, the weaponry, and the strange way these people talk, both with speech and with impressions. Other-Shiro, unsurprisingly considering how similar they are, had noticed much of the same—but since he’d been here longer, he’d learned a few other things, too.

“They call themselves the Vogn,” other-Shiro explains, as Shiro finally gives up on testing the door in disgust. “And I think they’re planning some kind of attack, based on what I’ve managed to overhear.”

“Attack? On who?” Shiro asks, frowning.

“Not sure,” other-Shiro admits. “I’ve only picked up bits and pieces here and there. Most of them are smart enough not to chat around their prisoners.”

That’s frustrating, but there’s little they can do about that, other than keep their ears open.

Shiro learns a few other things about his alternate self, as well. Once they’ve exhausted their intel exchange, when both of them finally settle down sitting against the walls for lack of anything better to do, they start talking about their respective homes instead. Talking keeps the boredom away, which is almost as much of a problem when imprisoned as the captors.

But they exchange brief overviews of their timelines in their respective realities, trying to gauge when things began to diverge. Shiro finds that the basics are still the same—a year imprisoned with the Galra, a frantic escape back to Earth, finding the Lions with the exact same people, forming Voltron, and creating a plan to ultimately defeat Zarkon.

But it comes as no surprise to find that’s the moment things start changing. Both of them had been flung across the galaxy by that last attack, but while Shiro had been captured and imprisoned in his own head, this other-Shiro hadn’t. And just as unsurprisingly, it’s here that their respective clones’ stories differ, too. This other-Shiro’s Ryou had been discovered fairly quickly, from the sounds of it. His own Ryou had remained undetected as a planted spy for months, until after the near-disaster that had been Naxcela.

They don’t get too far into exchanging the details, though, before the other-Shiro finally shakes his head in exasperation. “This,” he says, “is going to get confusing, with four of us running around with the same surname. We need a better way to tell everyone apart.”

Shiro shrugs. “We do have two names,” he points out.

“Fair enough. I guess I’ll just go by Takashi for now,” other-Shiro muses.

Shiro grins a little. “Ryou did the same thing, before he picked his name,” he says, amused.

The talking passes the time, at least…or Shiro assumes it does. Takashi hadn’t been wrong—although Shiro knows they’ve been exchanging rough recent histories for a while, it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all. Or maybe so much has it’s hard to grasp. Time is just  _ strange  _ here. It’s worrisome, and it makes Shiro nervous for Ryou, but at least the conversation is a decent distraction.

At least, until something changes.

It starts with noises out in the hallway—the sharp stamp of multiple feet as several guards approach, coming ever closer to their cell. Both Shiro and Takashi are instantly on their feet, and move into position without having to even discuss it. Takashi takes a place alongside the door, out of sight of the window, while Shiro takes a more obvious, distracting position in front of it. If they’re lucky, they can jump their captors.

But luck is not on their side, and one of the soldiers aims his wooden rifle through the bars at Shiro’s face. “Both of you, back against the wall,” the Vogn soldier orders.

Neither Shiro nor Takashi move.

“Now!” the soldier barks, and turns the rifle just enough to fire some sort of energy blast past Shiro’s ear. He can feel the heat of it, and the blast crackles against the far wooden wall as it hits. “I will not use a second warning shot.”

Shiro scowls, but he can feel the intent behind those words in his head, just as much as he can hear the anger in the soldier’s voice. He grudgingly backs up against the far wall. Takashi does as well, standing next to Shiro.

Only when they are both safely away from the door does it open. Any hopes of rushing it are dashed; three rifles are focused squarely on their faces. A taller Vogn speaks to them from behind the armed guards, not breaking line of sight for a moment. “You will come quietly. The council will speak with you now.”

Shiro glances at Takashi, who shakes his head once almost imperceptibly. This hasn’t happened to him yet either. He has no idea what this is about.

“What do they wish to speak about?” Shiro asks, playing for time.

“Their questions are their own, as are their examinations. You  _ will  _ answer, and you will behave. The consequences otherwise will be unpleasant.”

Takashi’s expression darkens. Shiro’s sure the expression is mirrored identically on his own face.

This won’t be ‘speaking with.’ This will be interrogation. Possibly torture. Whatever the Vogn want out of them, he’s absolutely positive they shouldn’t hand it over willingly. And Shiro is sure neither of them will give in without putting up a fight, but even so…

Well. As the guard so helpfully explained, life is about to get…’unpleasant.’

If Ryou— _ either _ Ryou—is out there, alive and capable of mounting a rescue, Shiro hopes they hurry. Because he’s not sure how long he or Takashi will be able to last, otherwise.


	2. Ryou

Well, this has gone just  _ splendidly. _

Ryou stares down at the deep gouge in the ground as his stomach sinks.

The damage is truly impressive.  Something huge and heavy obviously landed here, starting about 100 yards away, and dug up a massive trench as it scraped through the dirt.  A dozen trees were knocked over in the impact, leaving them scattered haphazardly like abandoned children's toys. Those that have fallen have gone dark, the faint bits of luminescence dying off completely, making it even harder to see the total destruction.

Technically, Ryou doesn't know for sure what happened here.  Whatever landed is gone, now, dragged away deeper into the woods.  But he'd be willing to bet money this is where the Black Lion landed.

But now she's gone, and there's no sign of Shiro, either.

So much for  _ that _ plan.

Ryou kicks at a rock, indulging in some childish frustration.   It arches into the trench and clatters in the gloom, before going still, having affected nothing.

Shockingly, it does nothing for his mood.

Waking up on an alien planet alone is cause for alarm, but not unusual.  They've all done it a time or two by necessity of their jobs. But the last thing Ryou remembers, he and Shiro had been in Black.  Shiro had been yelling to the Lion, getting louder and more worried, until the mouth had suddenly opened and they'd been sucked out into open free fall.  

Ryou had been utterly unprepared, and his instincts weren't good enough to grab for Shiro before they were separated.  The white of their uniforms should have been easy enough to spot, but Ryou had been a little busy trying to get himself angled right and activating his jetpack.  The ground had risen to meet him, terrifying fast, and then—

Then Ryou woke up, sprawled out over some bushes and very sore.

No amount of frantic whispering has gotten a response over the comms.  Either Shiro is still unconscious, something else had happened to him, or—

Well, one of the first two.  Ryou refuses to believe otherwise.

He'd gotten it in his head to find the Black Lion as a reference point.  Maybe Shiro had landed closer, and if he was awake, he would definitely be looking for his Lion.  Therefore, that was the perfect place to meet up.

Except no, because the Lion doesn't even have the decency to stay in place.

"What happened to your  _ shield,  _ cat?” Ryou mutters, narrowing his eyes at the gloom.

Predictably, there's no response.

Ryou takes one more look around, then ducks into the forest again.  He suspects the strange, floral soldiers he's been seeing around are the ones who took the Black Lion.  If that's the case, he really doesn't want them to spot him either. Maybe he's being judgy, but Ryou doesn't feel very comfortable walking up to people marching around with firearms.  At least, not until he knows more about them.

Which leaves Ryou with two options.

Follow the marching flowers, or keep searching around for Shiro.

Ryou  _ wants _ the latter.  Unambiguously.  That fall had been nasty, even if Shiro probably had more warning about it.  It's likely he's injured or otherwise incapacitated. There's an all too real possibility that right now he's bleeding out in the dark, while Ryou stumbles around like an idiot.

And there's the fact that Ryou is all alone on an extremely alien world, surrounded by odd wildlife, militarized beings, and glowing, swaying trees that make him feel very small.  Having Shiro around won't solve most of those problems, but it'll make Ryou feel better.

The  _ smart _ option, though, is to keep an eye on possible threats and try to find the Black Lion.  Without her, they're not going anywhere.

Dammit.

Ryou takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.  Then he starts to follow the trail the Black Lion left.

The trench winds around the trees.  The small lights from the plants aren't a lot to see by, and there's absolutely no help from the sky above.  There are no stars, no moon, nothing except two jagged lines of thin light. Ryou spends half his time squinting to try and see farther out, and the other half tripping over roots and rocks.

Then there's a click.

Ryou freezes, tensing his hand and listening hard.  He turns in a tight circle and resists the instinct to light up his arm.  That would be a beacon in the dark.

The click comes again.

Which is when Ryou realizes it's not from his environment.  It's from his helmet.

The clicks are an old military trick, designed to alert the listener there's someone waiting to talk when making noise might put them in danger.  Shiro had made sure the entire team knew it, but no one has ever used it.

A sigh rips out of Ryou like it claws out of him.  Then he taps his own helmet. "Finally," he breathes.

Shiro's familiar snort is enough to unwind some of the tension in Ryou's shoulders.  "I'm sorry. I was unconscious, so I didn't know I was on a time table."

"When aren't we?"  Ryou leans against one of the trees and idly pokes one of the glowing bulbs by the base of the leaves.  It doesn't move at all, as if it was made of glass rather than plant matter. The long, thin leaf continues to float up, reaching for the sky, and sways in an unfelt breeze.  It gives the impression that the plants are underwater, though Ryou can breathe just fine.

Shiro just hums, then grunts.

Immediately, Ryou tenses.  "Are you hurt?" He asks, only barely not a demand.  "What's your location? Don't move, I'll come to you."

"Oh, don't start."  Shiro sounds irritated already, which doesn't make Ryou feel any better.  A hurt Shiro is a defensive Shiro, after all. "I landed hard and I just woke up.  I'm sore. That's all."

"I'm still in a better position to get to you," Ryou says.  "I've been up and walking with no issue. What's your location?"

There's a long pause.  "It's dark and there's trees.  I don't have anything better for you."

Right.  There's not a lot in the way of landmarks here.  That could be a problem.

"Okay," Ryou says, looking around for something to help.  He'd tell Shiro to look for the trench the Black Lion made, but it had taken nearly an varga for Ryou to finally stumble on it.  They need something more visible. 

Ryou looks down at his hand and smiles.

That'll do.

"I'm going to try and climb one of these trees, then turn on my arm," Ryou says.  "Can you walk at all? We'll need to get in your line of sight, and that's easier if you're mobile."

There's another pause, this one bordering on annoyed.  "I told you that I'm fine," Shiro said. "Do you want me to climb instead?"

Yeah, make the guy who's been unconscious for an varga climb up a tree.  That's a good idea. Ryou bites back a snort, just because Shiro's temper is already short.  The last thing they need is to start actually arguing. "Too late," he says, finding a tree thin enough for him to wrap his limbs around at least half.  "Already up." He climbs as best he can, mostly relying on the Altean arm's strength and superior grip. The rough texture of the bark provides plenty of friction.

Shiro sighs but doesn't try to fight Ryou.  "What have I missed while I've been out?"

"The Black Lion is gone."

This time, the silence is longer.  "What?!"

"I found the impact site, but looks like someone got there first.  I was following the drag marks until you woke up."

Shiro lets out throaty noise.  "That would have been good to start with."

Rolling his eyes, Ryou silently mouths the words back.  When Shiro is wakes up alone on a weird planet with no stars or moon, then he can give his report in any order he wants.  "I'll keep that in mind. There's also intelligent life here. From the patrol patterns and how they're grouped, seems like they're soldiers.  I've been avoiding them, but I'm betting they're the ones who took the Lion."

Shiro sighs, long and hard.  "Well, we'll deal with that when we're together."

"Speaking of, you ready to look?  I'm hoping these guys don't spend a lot of time looking up, but I'd like to keep this short as possible."  Ryou holds on tight with his legs and wraps his left hand around one of the bulbs. It seems to hold his weight, but he wouldn't trust it for long.

Shiro grunts again, probably as he stands.  "I'm ready. Go."

Ryou holds out his right hand and lights it up.

After so much time in the dark, the glare is painful.  Ryou looks away and blinks spots from his eye. Then he gives a wave, working in slow circles.  "You see it?"

"Not immediately.  Let me try moving around."  Shiro is silent for a nearly a dobosh.  Then his breath catches. "I think I see you, but it’s small.  Wave again?"

Ryou does so, then lifts his hand up and down.  "How many moving hands can there be in the sky?"

"At this distance, you're not that different from any of the other glowing dots on the trees.  It's the movement I see." Shiro lets out a soft laugh. "Probably for the best. Anyone who looks might not realize what they're seeing."

True.  Ryou grins and turns his hand off.  "You heading my way?"

"Already coming."

Good.  Ryou starts to carefully climb down the tree.  With gravity on his side, it doesn't take as long as going up.  But Shiro must have been close, because he's at the base by the time Ryou drops down.

He's also staring, eyes wide behind the glass of his helmet.

Ryou pauses, then looks down at himself.  Everything looks normal to him. The armor is stupidly visible in the gloom, but that's nothing new.  One of these days, Ryou's going to make a version of armor with an actual stealth mode and give Coran shit about it for weeks.  He's a little dirty, sure, but he also just climbed a tree, so that's to be expected.

None of that explains Shiro's look.

Pulling off his helmet, Ryou frowns right back.  "What?"

Shiro starts, then blinks rapidly.  "What, what?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

Shaking his head, Shiro shrugs.  "I'm a little dazed still, sorry.  What's the last thing you remember?"

Definitely injured and hiding it, then.  Ugh. Of course.

"Climbing a tree and waving like a traffic signal, actually."  Ryou braces his back against the tree and slides down it so he can sit.  Then he points to the ground, staring Shiro down. "Sit, Shiro. We're planning and you're hurt."

Shiro's eyes flash, but this time he doesn't argue the point.  Instead he takes a seat, sitting on one leg and braced on his left hand.  He looks ready to bolt or strike if need be, but that's sensible. Any of those weird plant people could be out there.  They should be ready for anything.

What a day to not have the damn bayard.

"What do you remember about getting here?" Shiro clarifies.

Ryou's brows rise up.  There's something discomforting about Shiro's face right now.  He's tense, which is to be expected. It's a tense situation. Ryou's tense too.  But there's an odd blankness there too, like Shiro is holding him at a polite distance.

For now, Ryou shrugs and lets him keep it up.  "Working on the weird rift we found, and then Black ejecting us.  Also, falling. I remember a lot of falling. Thanks for the warning, by the way."

Shiro straightens like he's startled and then presses his lips thin.  "You expected me to know what was on the other side of the rift?"

"Nooo, but a 'hey, heads up, the Black Lion is about to vomit us out' would have been cool.  I could have at least grabbed your arm before being ragged dolled out, and we wouldn't have had to waste so much time finding each other again."  Ryou crosses his arms and stares Shiro down. All he gets is more of that neutral stare back, so he sighs and drops the aggressive stance. "Whatever.  I'm mostly joking. It just sucked."

Finally, something softens in Shiro's expression.  "Yes, it does. You were worried? I'm sorry."

Ryou shrugs one shoulder, distinctly sulky.

"You've been more productive than me, too.  At least you found where the Black Lion impacted."  Shiro pauses, then frowns, like a new thought hits. "How were they even able to drag it away?"

"Really good question.  I'd love an answer to it myself."  Ryou rests his head back against the tree, watching Shiro carefully.  "Black was acting weird when we were ejected. Maybe the shields are offline?"

Shiro nods slowly, his jaw set.  "That would make sense. If one of us can get back inside the Lion, we can at least give enough power to turn that back on.  Flying may take a bit, but priority is making sure the Black Lion is safe and able to recover."

Ryou stares.

Noticing his look, Shiro frowns back.  "What?"

"One of us?"

Shiro straightens, tense again.  "Yes?" He says, though he doesn't sound sure of it.  

Okay, something is wrong. Ryou pushes himself up off the tree, which just makes Shiro look more nervous.  "You think  _ I'm _ going to power up Black?"

Shiro's mouth falls open.  Then he shakes his head. "No.  Of course you won't. My mistake."

Tilting his head, Ryou looks Shiro up and down.  Then he suddenly dives forward, grabbing for his helmet.  

But Shiro was  _ ready _ for that.  He snaps backward, out of range of Ryou's grab.  Then he grabs Ryou by the arm and twists downward, locking it behind his back.  It's a lightning fast move that Ryou's never seen Shiro do before. It also hurts.

"What the hell?" Ryou hisses out, not daring to yell.  "What's  _ wrong _ with you?"

"You attacked me first."  Shiro holds his right hand out threateningly, palm flat.  He doesn't light his, which is good. Whatever's gotten into Shiro's head, Ryou doesn't have the heart to use his Altean hand on his brother.  Not after last time.

Instead, Ryou bucks and squirms.  He nearly manages to throw Shiro off, which is a surprise, but he manages to hold tight.  "I was going to take off your helmet! I thought you were concussed and hiding it. Now I think you've lost your damn mind."

Shiro stills above him, then sighs.  "You're a clone."

"No  _ shit," _ Ryou snaps back, bristling.  "Want to tell me anything else obvious?  'You have white hair, Ryou.' Or maybe 'I'm going to get my nose broken when I let my brother up.'"

Shiro's breath catches.  "Your name is Ryou?"

Something is very, very wrong.

Ryou goes still, his stomach churning.  The frustration starts to drain out of him, leaving horror behind.  Shiro doesn't know him, doesn't know his name, only recognizes him as a clone.  Has something happened to his memories? Has he forgotten Ryou?

"Yeah," he says, voice softening like he's speaking to a spooked animal.  "My name is Ryou. Shiro, let me up. I can help you."

"My name is Ryou too."

With that, Shiro — not-Shiro? — lets go.  Before Ryou can do more than flip around, he gets to his feet and steps back.  A press of a button makes his suit shimmer, and then the black parts are a pale, minty green.  Once that's done, he pulls off his helmet. His hair is like Ryou's, grown out on the sides, but close to Shiro's coloring.  Close because his is lighter on the sides, struck through with gray.

This is not at all Shiro.  This is another clone.

"I didn't think there were any others like me," Ryou breathes.  He pushes himself up slowly, staring at this stranger with his own face.

It's weird.  It's very weird.  No wonder Shiro had been such a damn grouch.

Not-Shiro (other-Ryou) shrugs.  "Neither did I. But I think there's something more going on here."

Finally, the shock wears off enough for the pieces to slot into place.  A clone named Ryou with strange Voltron armor and gray hair who can power the Black Lion.  How would he even get that outfit? There are too many out of place elements here for this to be a plot of Haggar’s, or even just a random stray clone.

"The rift," Ryou groans, covering his face with a hand.  "Like Sven or whatever. You're from an alternate reality."

"That's my guess."

Ryou looks over this stranger with a new eye.  Then, slowly, a laugh bubbles out of him. More follow, until he flops over on his back to grin at the sky.

Other-Ryou kneels down beside him and gives him a glare.  "Keep it down! You don't know who's out here, yet."

"I can't help it."  Ryou grins at him, unabashed.  "You're me. You're another version of  _ me." _

Giddiness sweeps through Ryou, pushing away caution for the moment.  This person is him from another reality. Not another Shiro, but  _ Ryou _ specifically.  He has alternate versions of himself.  He's not a mistake of the universe, an anomaly never to be repeated.  He's a person just like everyone else, and that means alternate paths.

It's affirming in a way Ryou had never even considered being possible.

Other-Ryou doesn't seem to get it.  He just frowns down at him and looks around again, lips thin.

It doesn't take Ryou long to get himself under control.  He breathes deeply, then lets it out in one short gust. "Okay.  Sorry. I'm good." He pushes himself up onto his elbows. "Okay.  So there's two of us. Did you come with a Shiro too?"

Other-Ryou nods.  "I'm sorry for taking advantage of your confusion.  I wasn't sure what your intentions were at first."

Honestly, that's fair.  Ryou would probably have been wary too, if this version of him had looked like this from the beginning.  "That's fine. I get it. Explains a lot, actually. I was wondering why you were acting off."

"Maybe off to your Shiro," other-Ryou says.  He actually sounds a little stiff, like he's  _ insulted  _ he wasn't a flawless Shiro.

_ Eugh. _  Ryou eyes this clone darkly.  Why does he  _ want _ to be mistaken for Shiro?  The other Ryou blinks back, brows up.  He clearly doesn’t see the problem.

Whatever.  Ryou shrugs that off, movement sharp and jerky.  "Okay, so there are two Shiros, and both of them aren't responding."

Other-Ryou frowns.  "It seems so. It's possible they're both still unconscious."

"Or they were with the Lion—"  Ryou pauses, then tilts his head.  "Both Lions?"

"You only found one impact site?"

Ryou sighs and scrubs over his face.  "Yeah, but that took forever to find. There's no sense of direction in this place.  It's all more dark forest. We could stumble around like idiots forever and just get ourselves more lost.  If you can power the Lion, can you can fly it too?”

“Yes."  

“There’s that, at least.”  Now if they get to Black they can do something with her, which is admittedly better than Ryou’s original plan.  “I’m guessing you can’t sense your Lion now, can you?” 

Other-Ryou shakes his head, which isn't surprising.  He would have mentioned otherwise. 

Ryou bites back another sigh.  "Well, we know where one Lion went.  If we follow the drag marks, we at least find one cat, maybe both. If you fly a captured Black, we can use that to look for the other and for our Shiros."

"Once we get one of them working again, yes.  Something was wrong when we came through." Other-Ryou looks him over, then offers a thin smile.  "But it's a plan, at least."

As close as they're going to get to one.  Ryou tilts his head back again to stare at the blank sky, tracing the two jagged lines with his eyes.  Rifts. Two of them. Honestly, he should have figured this out sooner. So much for being the smart twin.  "What do you think are the chances this place has a sun, if it doesn't have stars?"

"Not likely."

Yeah, that's what Ryou thought too.

"No sense waiting for sunrise, then."  Ryou stands and brushes off his armor, then offers his hand, if a touch reluctantly.  "Ready to get moving?"

The other clone takes it and pulls himself up, no less wary.  "No time like the present, I always say."

Ryou grins back, but it’s openly fake.  "Hey, me too," he jokes, openly jovial.

Other-Ryou smiles back, smaller and more reserved.  More like Shiro's. 

Shiro's smile on Ryou's face.

His own amusement falls away, replaced by a sinking stomach.  Ryou looks away and finds his way back to the trench. "This way," he says shortly, pointing away from the impact site.  He starts walking along, shoulders tight, and goes silent.

If Other-Ryou noticed his sudden mood shift, he doesn't comment.  Instead he just follows along behind, matching Ryou's pace.

Well, Ryou got his wish.

He's not alone anymore.

***

"So, hey, question for you," Ryou drawls.

Other-Ryou glances up at him, still carefully picking his way over the huge roots of a tree.  His armor is dark again, back to the Shiro-like black coloring. Ryou would complain, but it’s slightly more stealthy, so fine.  

The other clone looks around, searching for any sign of life.  In the time they've been walking, they've seen a few of the flower patrols, but each time they've managed to remain unseen.  "Alright. What do you want to know?"

"That move before.  When you..." Ryou mimes locking his arm behind his back.  "I've never seen that one before, I don't think. Where'd you pick it up?"  What made this clone  _ different? _

A smirk curls up Other-Ryou's lips.  "Actually, you may have, depending on when our universes diverge.  When you first arrived at the Castle of Lions, did Lance try and flirt with the princess?"

Ryou's brow furrows as he thinks back.  "Yeah, I think so. She tolerated it for about two ticks before she—oh!"  Allura had put him in an arm lock, come to think of it. "You got that from Allura?"

"Yes.  It's  _ youur-jun... _ a fighting style Alteans developed to incapacitate an opponent as quickly as possible."  Other-Ryou shrugs. "It's been useful a few times already."

Grinning, Ryou nods.  "I bet. I'll have to ask my Allura for lessons."

Other-Ryou nods and opens his mouth, but then pauses and holds up his hand.  Immediately, Ryou goes still and quiet. They both wait. There's very faint, very distant footsteps that quickly fade, heading to their right.

"That's two patrols in the last ten doboshes," other-Ryou says, once the footsteps are definitely gone.  "We're getting into a more populous area, so we should discuss the next part of our plan."

Ryou turns to eye him.  "What's there to discuss?"

That earns him a flat look. "Oh, I don't know.  How we're going to approach this? They moved the Black Lion, which is not an easy task even without the shield.  It implies either advanced technology or a lot of manpower. Probably both."

There's something  _ off _ about the tone.  His affect is flatter than Ryou expects.  The differences is speech pattern are odd to hear as well.  He sounds a lot like Shiro does when he's speaking to the Blade of Marmora or rebels.  They're on the same side and friendly, but he's using his Black Paladin voice. 

A shiver runs through Ryou.  The hairs on his arm stand up and his hands clench at his side.

"Uh, we sneak around as long as we can, bash in some heads when that stops working, then get to the Lion.” Ryou said back, grinding his teeth against the sensation.  His tone is aggressive, but he isn’t in the mood to pull it back. Not in front of these guys, and not when the plant people might well have Shiro too. He had to be close by when they dragged the lions away.  “They can't do much to us once we're inside. We can fly away or blast our way out from there. Done."

Other-Ryou frowns at him, looking utterly unimpressed.  "That's your best plan? Run in like a neanderthal? Just hope we don’t get shot?"

Ryou raises an eyebrow back, purposefully just as condescending.  "Short, sweet, open to adaptation? Yeah, I think it's pretty good."

"You don't even want to  _ attempt _ communication?" Other-Ryou asks.

Is this guy actually serious?

Crossing his arms, Ryou stares him down.  "They stole the Lion. Both Lions! People who do that are historically not people to have brunch with."

"They didn't steal it."  

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were following the trail of a  _ third _ Black Lion.”

Other-Ryou groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he's dealing with an idiot.  "Look at it from their perspective for just one minute, please? Two strange metal cats just fell down out of the sky on their military base.  For this many organized beings to be around and active, this place was set up long before we arrived. It would be like if the Black Lion fell on top of the Garrison.  So they investigated the crashes and took what they found. That's perfectly reasonable."

He has a point, unfortunately.  As much as Ryou would like to argue his logic, he really can’t.  But his tone still makes the Ryou's stomach twist. This clone sounds  _ just _ like Shiro when he thinks everyone around him isn’t actually keeping up.

Ryou takes a deep breath, trying to calm his flash of temper.  He can't even explain why he's so irritated. He just hates that voice, except that he's heard it dozens of times before with no issues.  So what's wrong now?

"We know there are plenty of beings who negotiation won't work on," he finally says shortly.  "Walking up to them and introducing ourselves doesn't sound wise to me. Unless you enjoy being captured or shot.  I know I don’t, but maybe that’s a personal preference."

Other-Ryou scowls, looking over Ryou's face.  "I’m not saying be stupid about it. But it’s entirely possible this is a misunderstanding we can clear up.  How ridiculous would it be to pick a fight when we could just ask and get our Lions back?”

“About as stupid as your face,” Ryou mutters, mostly out of habit.

“Our faces are identical,” Other-Ryou says, with all the forced patience of someone dealing with a toddler.  “Can you not be childish for five minutes, please?”

“Can you not—?”  Ryou bites off his reply and shakes his head.  “Hell. Fine. If you want to get captured or killed rather than find our Shiros, I guess that’s on you.  I just want to get my twin back, alright?” 

The word ‘twin’ makes Other-Ryou’s brows jump, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Are they not—

What’s  _ wrong _ with their reality?

“I understand. Look, Ryou..."  The other clone frowns. "That's odd to say."

That finally draws a reluctant smile out of Ryou.  "Yeah, it is. I've been avoiding it."

Other—Ryou inclines his head.  "I was too, honestly. That's another thing we should discuss.  One of us could go by Shiro until we get ours back?"

_ "No." _

The snapped word travels through the dark forest.  In the distance, something scrambles and then scurries off.

Other-Ryou doesn't even say anything.  He just turns and stares Ryou down.

Okay, yeah, that was dumb.  Ryou takes a deep breath. "I really don't want to be called Shiro."

"Fine, it doesn’t matter. We can call me Shiro.  I don't care."

"I care."  Ryou keeps his voice down this time, but he stops and faces Other-Ryou to show how serious he is.  "I don't want to do that." It feels like a betrayal. They aren't Shiro. Both of them aren't, despite everything.  They're them. Maybe this version doesn't care, but it still feels like a betrayal to use that name. It's not theirs and it doesn't belong to them.  They  _ can't. _

Other-Ryou throws up his hands.  "Fine! This is a stupid thing to spend time on.  It doesn't matter. Pick whatever you want to call me, and we'll go by that."

How does he not care?  Even thinking about giving up his name makes Ryou’s mouth taste bitter, but apparently not this version of him.  But they do need names for each other, and Ryou sure as hell isn’t giving up his, so fine. 

Taking a deep breath, Ryou opens his mouth to answer with the first name that comes to mind.

But then he sees bright colors moving behind Other-Ryou.

"Quiet!" He breathes out, eyes wide.

Other-Ryou's brows jump up, but he shrugs.  "Unconventional, but whatever. Fine, Quiet it is."

No, no!  Ryou steps forward and smacks his hand over the clone's mouth.  "Shhh!"

Finally, the newly dubbed Quiet freezes, eyes wide.  His eyes flicker, but he doesn't try to turn around to look.

They're in plain sight.  They're standing in the open, right under a tree's light, not 30 feet away from several of the flower guards.  With their bright white armor, they have to be painfully obvious in the gloom.

But the soldiers don't stop.  They don't even look over. They speak to each other in low voices and continue on, heads turning about like they're searching for something. 

Huh.

Once the footsteps stop, Quiet peels Ryou's hand off of his mouth.  "You need to wash your gloves."

"I've been walking around and climbing for the past couple of vargas," Ryou says, rolling his eyes.  "It's sweat and dirt. You'll live. You've had worse, I know you have. Want to come up with a better name than Quiet, now?"

Straightening, Quiet shakes his head.  "No. It’s a stupid thing to waste time on.  If you don't object to the name, we can move on."  His tone is still polite, but now it's completely iced over.  Clearly, he’s reached the end of his rope. 

It's a dumb name, but hopefully it'll only be necessary for a few vargas.  "Quiet it is."

With a sharp nod, Quiet continues to march through the trees.  His speed has picked up, so Ryou has to work to catch up and keep up.

He gives Quiet a few doboshes to cool down before speaking again.  "Okay, look. I get what you're saying about diplomacy. You're right, from their perspective, everything is reasonable."

"I sense a but."

_ "But, _ I don't think it's a good idea to wait if you actually want to talk to them."

That finally makes Quiet pause.  He turns to frown at Ryou. "What do you mean?"

Ryou shrugs.  "I mean, think about it.  Say they are friendly. We're still basically showing up at their front door and demanding they give us the weird thing they found.  It means we snuck around all their patrols — which we did — to come directly to where their leaders probably stay. If I were them, I wouldn't find that very comfortable."

There's a long pause, and then Quiet finally nods.  "I think that's forgivable, considering there are plenty of reasons to avoid patrols.  I'm sure we could talk our way out of it." He stops and considers Ryou again. "Well, I could."

"I promise to shut the hell up if they turn out to be nice."  Ryou holds a hand up like he's swearing an oath. "Or at least be polite. I'm a paladin, I can manage that much."

Quiet's brows raise, but he nods.  The flat look is so utterly  _ Shiro _ that it sends a shiver up Ryou's spine.

This guy is still just like his original.  From the tone, to the expressions, to the damn armor color (at first).  His mannerisms and style of fighting are different from Ryou's Shiro, but that might just be a universe difference.  He's barely changed at all.

What makes Quiet different from Ryou?  It's not like he's putting on a show. He's being polite, yes, but he's not  _ acting, _ not the way he was before.  This is just him. A him that's just like Shiro.

Maybe it's  _ Ryou _ who's acting.

Shaking off the thought, and the icy dread in his stomach, Ryou focuses on the task at hand.  His existential crisis can happen when Shiro is safe.

"But we skip all that if we walk up to one of those patrols and try the same thing.  I’ll hide while you can try it out, and if-" when "-they turn out to be assholes, we punch them.  That way there's only a few of them, and not however many are at their base of operations. How's that?"

Quiet considers him, then grudgingly nods.  "That’s not a bad suggestion," he says. "We don't know, but I just don't think it's right to immediately write them off for doing nothing wrong."

Yeah, yeah.  These people definitely took the Black Lion, and they probably have his brother too.  Ryou would much rather bash his way in and get to Shiro faster. 

But that's his anger talking, not sense.  Quiet does have a point that they could make unnecessary enemies of these people by going in swinging.  Frankly, Ryou would prefer bigger stick diplomacy, since they can use one of the Lions. But that’s assuming they could get there first.

So fine.  Quiet can try.  Ryou will just be there to clean up, and maybe to gloat a little.

"Yeah, alright," Ryou says, nodding.  "We know patrols keep coming past here.  I'd rather we hang out and meet them on our own terms than walk around and end up with guns at our back."

Quiet's eyes narrow as he nods slightly.  "That's sensible."

He sounds reluctant.  Considering the plan involves them both standing around in the dark, Ryou can't exactly blame him.  He's not really thrilled at the idea either. But it's better than surprising someone with a gun in the middle of their home or whatever.

They both get comfortable, leaning against a tree, and settle in to wait.

It only takes about a dobosh for Ryou to get bored of that.  "So, your armor changes?"

"It does."

Ryou waits about ten ticks for further elaboration, but it doesn't come.  "It's pretty cool. Did you have to have it specially made? Did you make it?"

Finally, Quiet turns to look at him.  His lips are pressed thin as his eyes dart over Ryou's face, like he's searching for an ulterior motive.  "Coran helped me with the engineering. Why?"

Honestly, because Ryou was kind of hoping that Quiet did do it himself.  It would be a way they were more similar to each other than to Shiro, at the very least.  "Because it's pretty cool, like I said. Unique."

"It's proved itself useful."  Quiet tilts his head, like that confirms something for him.  But whatever it is, apparently he doesn't want to share, because he doesn't elaborate.

Ugh, talking to this guy is like pulling  _ teeth. _  Does he really want to sit around in the dark and the quiet while they wait?  This place is eerie, especially with the utter lack of natural noise. It's just them, the weird not-underwater trees, and the dull glow of the bulbs.  At least, until the weird plant people show up.

"So, it's like a stealth mode?" Ryou continues, rolling his hand encouragingly.  He’s being obnoxious, he knows, but he doesn’t  _ care. _  "Does everyone else on your team have it?"

Quiet tilts his head.  "Something like that. And no, just me."  He turns away again.

Jeez, alright.  Fine. Conversation over.

Ryou braces his legs out further in front of him and balances on his heels.  He taps the toes of his boots together, trying to stop just close enough that they’ll touch but won’t click.

That doesn't last long before Quiet sighs.  "I don't understand you."

"No kidding," Ryou drawls back.  "Same to you."

Quiet grunts, and that's the end of that.

Great.  That accomplished so much.

Finally, they're saved from each other by the sound of voices ahead.  They speak lowly, not audible enough to actually make out words, and from the sound of it they're getting closer.

"Alright," Ryou says, waving his fingers at Quiet.  "All yours. Good luck, Diplomat."

Quiet doesn't even spare him a glance.  Instead he straightens himself up, like he's dawning a cloak or impressive armor.  "You going to hide?"

"Oh, yeah."  Maybe he doesn't have weird fake Shiro armor, but Ryou's pretty damn good at sneaking.  He ducks behind a crop of trees, creeping along heel to toe so he makes as little noise as possible.

There's a pause, and then Quiet cries out. "Excuse me!"

The footsteps pause.  Ryou presses his back to one of the trees and leans around it, just enough that he can see around the edge.

Three of the alien people step out from behind another tree.  Despite the fact that they have a direct line of sight, all three of them keep scanning the area with their guns, never looking directly at Quiet.

Ryou ducks back, his heart in his throat.  Are they looking for a second intruder? Do they know that there are two of them?  Maybe they were tracked, or maybe their Shiros let something slip. He believes his brother would try and protect him, but apply enough pain and everyone has a breaking point.

Okay, no.  He's assuming the worst of them again.  Ryou needs to stay calm and focused. Patient.  All that crap.

There's a slight pause before Quiet speaks again.  "I'm an ally," he calls, so confident and easy that Ryou almost believes it himself.  "I'm here to speak with you."

When Ryou ducks around again, the soldiers have finally focused purely on Quiet.  The one in the middle, with hundreds of tiny, thin petals like a mane along his skull, steps forward.  He seems off balance, but now his gun is pointed directly at Quiet. "Who are you?" He asks sharply.

When he speaks, it's like Ryou is hearing it twice.  Except the second version isn't quite words. It echoes in his head, ringing in his ears like a too-loud bell.  He feels distrust, and confusion, and disorientation. There's also a hint of curiosity, too, but it's far less than the rest.

What the hell?

Quiet winces, so clearly he feels it too.  But he pushes gamely on. "Like I said, I'm an ally.  I'm here to speak with you about what you found in the forest recently."

One of the other two steps forward, lips pulled back in a snarl.  "Which do you mean?" His aggression hits like a blow, and it feels  _ intentional. _  They're trying to intimidate, like someone using their height to posture.  Below that, there's open distrust.

The first one turns around to glare at the second.  There's no second layer of emotion this time, but Ryou still gets the feeling that this one is in charge, and isn't very pleased with the second.  It's the sort of glare that a Garrison officer might give an unruly cadet.

There's barely a pause before Quiet smiles at them.  "Both. I think we can come to a conclusion that satisfies everyone, if you'll just give me a chance to explain what's going on to your superiors."  He holds up both his hands in placation.

Once he does, the leader's eyes snap down to the right hand. 

"What's wrong with it?" The third one asks their superior, gesturing toward Quiet.  They have huge, wide petals in navy blue that droop backwards, like slicked back hair.  "Why is it talking like that?" The echo of emotion rings mostly of disgust.

They clearly aren't handling this well, but so far they haven't been more aggressive than keeping their weapons ready.  Ryou reluctantly starts to relax. Maybe Quiet really had a point. 

"You are strange," the leader pronounces slowly.  The double-layer is still there, but it feels muted and cottony, like it's being intentionally silenced.

Uh oh.  Never mind.

Quiet just nods, his posture still utterly calm.  "Yes, I am. But being different doesn't have to mean anything bad.  It means I might be able to offer something you need."

The leader's eyes don't stray from his raised right hand.  "Yes, I think so. You are like the others. They will offer what we want, as will you."  He stays still and calm, and then reaches back for something hanging from his belt.

But Ryou is already moving.  He kicks off the tree and runs forward at speed.  The leader doesn't even seem to notice his approach until Ryou is right on top of him.  Close as he was, he's able to dive into the leader's side before he can strike Quiet. They both go tumbling down onto the ground, right onto the roots of one of the larger trees.  Leader grunts, and his pain rattles through Ryou's head as well.

"You'll find—Hey!"  Quiet cuts off with a groan.  "Of course."

"You wanted to get kidnapped too?" Ryou snaps back.  He slams his fist into the leader’s head, then bites back a curse.  The skin doesn't just have bark-like texture. It's hard too, like they're actually made of solid wood, and the impact jars up Ryou's arm.

Quiet sighs and activates his own arm.  It glows a brilliant green, bright as a flashlight in the darkness.

There's no time for more talk, because the other two cry out and start to fire.  Ryou has to duck to avoid shots (they're better than the average Galra, unfortunately), which leaves him open to a knee to the stomach.  Grunting, Ryou takes the blow and activates his own arm.

But when he reels back, a foot crashes down on the leader's head.  Ryou has to suddenly yank his arm back to keep from slicing Quiet's leg off at the knee.  "Hey!"

Quiet doesn't even reply.  He just vaults off the leader's head and ducks behind the trees Ryou had been using for cover.  The pale green glow dies off suddenly. He must have turned it off so the light didn't give away his location.

The remaining two try to follow him, firing shots that only barely miss the moving target.  But the moment he's out of their eye line and the arm cuts off, they stop, like they're disoriented.  Both scan the trees, but don't seem to spot anything.

So instead they turn their attention, and their guns, to Ryou.

"Shit."  Ryou rolls, dragging the still dazed leader with him.  He's heavier than a humanoid his size should be, but with the Altean arm it's not a problem.  Ryou is able to pull the soldier between him and the others. The body jerks as each shot impacts, and the head goes limp.

Well, that's one down.

Ryou takes a deep breath and waits for the volley to end.  Then he lets go and jumps to his feet, activating his shield in the same move.  It forms in front of him just ticks before a shot hits. Grinning, Ryou ducks his head and  _ charges _ at the droopy-petaled one.

Just as Quiet ducks out of his hiding spot, heading for the exact same target.

Dammit!

Quiet spins out of the way, only barely avoiding being bowled over by Ryou and his shield.  Meanwhile, Ryou pulls back, trying vainly to stop his momentum before he hits Quiet. The result is that he still crashes into the third soldier, but without half as much of the force as he wanted.  It makes them stumble back, off balance, but doesn't knock them over the way it should have.

Cursing darkly, Ryou drops the shield enough to get within the plant person's arm length.  That close, the soldier can't get his gun between them effectively, but puts them very much at risk of the Altean hand.

Since shooting is out, the being reaches back to the same spot the leader had gone for.  They whip out a dark, long wooden rod, which flashes and then begins to spark.

Ryou bends backwards out of the way, letting the rod sail over his head.  Then he reaches up and grabs the being's wrist with his right arm. They let out a primal scream of pain.

The echo happens again, louder and more powerful now.  Ryou  _ reels  _ from it, nearly losing his footing completely.  

When he blinks himself back into the moment, he sees crackling energy, and then the rod hits him on the side of the face.

Ryou goes down.  Energy courses through him, making him tense and seize, and his vision goes white from the pain.

Clutching at the ground, Ryou blinks the spots from his eyes and tries to scramble away.   But when he manages to focus again, the soldier has their gun up and aimed right at Ryou's head.

There's a shot.

The gun tumbles from the soldier's limp hands.  They fall backward, a sizzling hole in their wooden armor.

Ryou turns, stunned, to see Quiet standing with his right arm out, still glowing faintly with power.  In the midst of his own fight with the remaining soldier, he'd stopped to save Ryou.

With his goddamn  _ gun arm. _

As Ryou gapes, the final being takes advantage of Quiet's distraction.  They bring up a small, square device to the side of their head and take a deep breath.

A communicator.

Ryou grabs hold of the second soldier's dropped gun.  His fingers scramble at nothing, then find a piece on the bottom that juts out.

When he jams it up, the gun fires.

Ryou had been aiming for the device, but despite lessons with Lance, shooting his still not his strongest skill.

Instead, the soldier goes down, missing a significant portion of their head.

"Ugh!"  Quiet steps back, nearly losing his balance on the tree roots as he goes.  "Well, that's certainly effective." He rubs his palm over his face, wiping away the splattered, thick ichor.

Making a face, Ryou finally stands and takes a mental catalog.  He's going to be bruised tomorrow, and that blow to his cheek did damage for sure.  But there's nothing that'll slow him down, which is what matters. "Yeah, sorry. Better than having the cavalry called.  You okay?"

Quiet frowns.  "Yes, I'm fine.  I think you took the worst of this fight."  He steps over carefully and gestures for Ryou to turn his cheek so he can look.  "Looks burned, but not much more than that. With any luck it won't scar."

"Hey, at least it'd be new and exciting."

"Does Matt not have a scar there?"

Ryou's brows jump up.  "No. Yours does? Huh.  Weird difference."

The examination over, Quiet steps back a respectful distance.  "We should put these three somewhere a little more out of the way, so hopefully no one will stumble on them soon.  We'll need to move quickly before they're missed. " He sighs. "You couldn't have waited thirty seconds to see if I could talk my way through it?"

"He was going for a weapon.  I think talks were over." Ryou turns away from Quiet, stomach churning.  "For what it's worth, I thought you had it there for a second."

Quiet lets out a quiet noise of understanding.  “Ah. That’s why.” Then he lapses into a thoughtful silence.  He helps Ryou to pick up the first body, trying to find a nice out of the way section of roots to dump it for now.  "I assume you caught what they said."

Looking over, Ryou raises his brows.  "They said a few things."

"That the others would offer what they want eventually."  Quiet's fingers tightened around the ankles of the soldier.  "They definitely have our Shiros, and I doubt they're being shown much hospitality."

Ice forms in Ryou's veins.  He'd heard that, but the implications hadn't registered.  He'd been too busy paying attention to the leader's movements.  "Shit."

"Seems you were right."  Quiet clenches his jaw as they drop the first body off, then go for the second one.

Ryou swallows hard.  "Yeah. Wish you were, though."  He stays quiet while they work, mind whirling with the possibilities.  Absolutely none of them are good.

They need to get to their Shiros and fast.

"We should focus on stealth," Quiet says firmly, once they're finished.  "We managed those three, but even a fourth would have been a problem. We need numbers, and we need the Lions as soon as possible."

That all sounds good to Ryou.  "So, do we get our Shiros first and use the better numbers to get to the Lions, or do we try to get to a Lion to get the Shiros?"

Quiet pauses as he considers that.  "Try for the Lions first. We don't know what the guard situation is around either, but it'll be far simpler to free the Shiros if we have the Lion than vice versa.  If we don't feel it's possible with just the two of us, we can backtrack and try to free them."

Well reasoned.  Ryou nods, his jaw tight and his eyes boring into the darkness around them.  The tension makes his cheeks ache, but he doesn't care.

They're hurting his brother.  And Ryou's going to make them hurt  _ back. _

Quiet doesn't speak, like he's giving Ryou a moment to get his temper under control.  "Do we need to bandage your cheek before we go?"

Shaking his head, Ryou turns to face him.  "No, it's fine. I've had worse burns before."

To his surprise, Quiet cracks a bland smile.  "I have as well." He gestures pointedly to his thigh with his right hand.

Oh, hey.  He'd done that too.

Ryou smiles back, his heart doing a complicated twist.  He wouldn't have wished that awful week on Quiet, but it settles something in Ryou.  It's a shared experience. Quiet knows. He understands that desperation and fear and determination better than anyone in their universes, including their Shiros.

"Thank you," he says.  "For saving me."

"Of course," Quiet says, dropping his hand.  "I wasn't going to let you get shot."

"Yeah, then you'd have a fourth body to hide."

That makes Quiet's smile grow.  "Exactly. More trouble than it's worth."

Aww, he does have a sense of humor under there after all.  It's dark like Shiro's, but hey, so is Ryou's.

As they start to follow the furrow again, Ryou nudges Quiet.  "So, hey, what's the story with the arm? Because it's  _ badass." _

Quiet's eyes light up.  He holds his arm out in front of him.  "The full story takes a little while. The Olkari made it, though."

"Yeah?"  Ryou's eyes light up, and he has to resist the urge to grab for it and inspect it himself.  "It's a gorgeous piece of tech. How's it work?"

Smiling more honestly than he has since Ryou met him, Quiet shrugs one shoulder.  "I don't understand all of it. It goes over my head. But I could show you some features before we go back into combat?"

_ "Please." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now that we've introduced everybody, here's a key for who is who:
> 
> Shiro - Parallel by Proxy Shiro  
> Takashi - Don't Let's Start Shiro  
> Ryou - Don't Let's Start Ryou  
> Quiet - Parallel by Proxy Ryou
> 
> For the record: We did not come up with the name Quiet. It's a reference to the original series, in which Takashi Shirogane's nickname is Quiet for some godforsaken reason. This was our 'Who's on First' tribute to that.


	3. Takashi

Takashi keeps his head down as they're lead through the winding, organic hallways of the facility.  Each step echoes oddly, as the curved walls don't absorb much sound. He keeps step with Shiro, who keeps mouthing words to himself.  It's hard to see in the dark, but if Takashi concentrates, he just barely follow the movements of his lips. Left. Right. Right. Center.  Middle left. Far right. 

Good.  Right now, Takashi still figures their respective Ryous are their best chance out of here.  But if they do get an opportunity to slip free of their bonds, at least they'll be able to get out quickly.

Trusting that Shiro can handle that, Takashi focuses on their captors.

The three soldiers haven't relaxed their guard for an instant.  Judging by how they'd opened the cell door, they were well used to prisoners.  They don't speak, they don't dally, but so far they haven't stepped out of line, either.  Vaguely, Takashi can recall several times that Galra guards in the Arena would go out of their way to antagonize prisoners, especially bound ones.  They'd loved to jab their weapons into Takashi's back or try to trip him while he walked. The goal had been dehumanization. Elevating themselves at the expensive of another being.

While Takashi doesn't miss the pain or humiliation, he does get more tense without it.  Those shows of power were also a weakness, if used right. If one of them stepped out of line, maybe he and Shiro could fight back even with their bound arms.  It would be more difficult than usual, but he expects his counterpart is just as worthwhile in a fight.

As far as Takashi knows, they're both the Champion.  And they didn't get that way relying on their current arms.

But no opportunity comes, at least not yet.  The guards are more interested in doing their jobs.  Biting on his bottom lip, Takashi catches Shiro's gaze and tilts his head to the side.  'Trust me'.

Shiro's brow furrows.  He doesn't seem to get the message, but he gives a tiny nod anyway.

Good enough.  

Takashi stops and starts to turn around.

Immediately, all three of the guards stop.  Two keep their guns trained on Takashi, while the third covers Shiro without needing to be told.

"Keep walking," the center one snaps.  His distrust and anger wash over Takashi, nearly powerful enough to make him stumble.

But Takashi holds his ground and meets the soldier's eyes.  Or, rather, he tries to, but the being’s attention is firmly on the prosthetic hand.  "I need to use the bathroom," Takashi lies. 

The soldier's scowl only deepens.  His bright red petals, wide and circled like a rose, seem to clench around his head.  "After you speak to the council."

Takashi nods, because he really hadn't expecting anything else.  It had been worth a shot. His eyes flicker to each of the guns again.  Their fingers are all on what looks like a small stick at the bottom of their guns.  Those must be the triggers.

"Alright," he says.  When Takashi turns, he takes care to move his arms first, swinging them around his body.

All three sets of eyes watch the right one.  But none of them tense or look any more angry than they were before.

Which means they aren't nervous of what their arms can do.  

Why else would they care?  What could a bunch of plant people want with metal arms?

Mulling that over, Takashi starts to walk before any of them can get antsy with their guns.  He's willing to fight his way out, but they'll have a harder time if either of them get injured.  Beyond that, Takashi needs to be in one piece if he and Ryou want to get out of this strange place.  If he goes down, Ryou is stuck.

That can't happen.

Eventually, they're lead out of the building and into the open air.  Takashi notes it's still night, and hopes that means they haven't been here for long, until he catches sight of the lack of moon again.  Right. No stars means no sun, and no sun means no way to approximate time. 

As they walk, Shiro missteps and stumbles into Takashi's side.  The impact is light, more of a nudge, but it makes Takashi look over, worried for his counterpart.  He did have a head injury, one easily bad enough to have given him a concussion.

But Shiro nods his head forward, his lips a thin, unhappy line.

Following the gesture, Takashi squints into the night.  Inside, the clusters of light fill the enclosed space enough to get a good view.  There are fewer of the glowing bulbs outside, and they're on the buildings or edges of the forest, leaving the rest of the grounds in the dark.

But with what light there is, Takashi can just make out a dark line cutting through the ground.  The huge furrow stretches from the treeline to their left, then ends abruptly when it meets the more worked stone of the main courtyard.

Something very big and very heavy was dragged from the wilderness and into the camp.

Takashi can guess what.

Another scan of the area yields a second furrow, this one coming from the other side.  What little of it he can see is mostly behind the buildings, making it hard to see, but it's there.

They have both Lions.

Well, that saves them the trouble of finding them.  But if the Lions are here, where are their Ryous?

Ice forms in Takashi's veins.  He keeps his head down, resisting the urge to look around.  He wants to believe his Ryou is around, maybe skulking around the edges of the trees and preparing to make a nuisance of himself.  But if he is, Takashi won't help by looking around expectantly and drawing the guard's interest. Let them think they have their prisoners nice and docile.

Rather than take them to the hangar, Takashi and Shiro are lead to a smaller building next to it.  Despite the size, this building clearly has some sort of importance. More of the bulbs curl up the sides, but close together and twirled like growing ivy.  The walls are smooth and made of a multi-colored, shining stone. Around the lights, tiny veins of glowing energy run through the stone like veins on a leaf.

It would be pretty, but the gun at his back kind of ruins the effect.

The doors open up ahead of them, revealing that the entire building is one large room.  There is an open space in the front, with two strange branches that seem to rise out of the floor.  On the other side, there is a slab of that same marble in a half circle that comes up maybe four feet.  Behind it, a dozen of the Vogn sit. Only some of them wear the same armor as the soldiers, while others are clad in robes made of what looks like the long leaves from the trees.

All of them are staring at Shiro and Takashi.

The pair are lead forward.  The center soldier gets between them both and nudges them apart with his gun, directing each toward one of the branches.

Takashi glances over at Shiro, heart in his throat.  His counterpoint looks back, his expression of nervousness probably a mirror of Takashi's.

Once in position, the other two guards move.   One steps in front of Takashi and takes hold of his bound arms.

Instinct takes over.  Takashi yanks his arms away and steps back, tense against further touch.  But the muzzle of the center guard's weapon hits his spine before he can get more than a couple of feet away.  Takashi freezes long enough for the guard to grab for him again. This time, Takashi allows it, not resisting as the winding vine is touched down to the tip of the branch.

Once they touch, there's a spark of energy.  The branch comes to life and winds around Takashi's arms, doubling the bonds.  Then it splits it two, either side winding up his biceps and digging into fiercely.  Once again, Takashi tries to pull away, his heart pounding. But the moment he pulls too hard, the branch lights up again.  Energy jolts through it, locking Takashi in place from the pain.

To his left, he hears his own voice cry out, like a demented echo.  Clearly, Shiro tried the same thing, with the same results.

Satisfied that their prisoners are trapped, the three guards step back.  Takashi doesn't look back, but he tracks their footsteps. They stop rather than fade away, which means they're staying to keep watch.

Hopefully that means they won't be kept long, if the soldiers are sticking around.

Swallowing hard, Takashi looks up at the alien faces around him.  Each flower person has different, vivid petals, varying wildly in color and shape.  Some look similar to flowers from Earth, but others are utterly foreign.

One of the two in the middle stands.  Their petals are wide and stout, with concentric circles that give the impression of a dozen extra eyes peering down, and they wear a more ornate, decorated version of the guard's armor.  A general, maybe. 

Takashi tenses, prepared for the promised interrogation.  But instead the general steps in front of Shiro, eyes narrowed down at him.

"You are Outsiders," the general says.  Her voice is higher than the others and deliberate, but still echoes the same way as the others.  For the first time, it's not aggression or anger that pierces Takashi's head. It's curiosity. Clinical but eager, like the brink of a breakthrough.  The voice, combined with the feeling, reminds Takashi eerily of a mixture between Haggar and Admiral Sanda.

A shiver runs up his spine.

Shiro sets his jaw and doesn't answer.  His eyes stay locked onto the general's face, just shy of openly defiant.

Tilting her head, the general looks Shiro over in turn.  She reaches down and taps on the metal arm. At her touch, the familiar purple lines appear and glow briefly, but fade out immediately.

One look at Shiro's wide, frightened eyes proves that hadn't been him.  He jerks away hard, then grunts as his vine lights up again.

"Quintessence," the general murmurs, a smile curling up at her lips.  "Already worked into the very metal. Is there more of this where you come from?"  There's desire in her voice, like someone presented with a pile of gold and diamonds.

Shiro lets out a ragged breath, his jaw still clenched from the latest shock.  "No, it's pretty unique,” he says, barely audible.

The general's head tilts, like she’s listening for something else.  When it doesn’t come, she looks puzzled. "Not so unique that you don't have two."  Her eyes dart to Takashi next. That same desire slithers through his mind, focused on the arm rather than the person.  It's not the first time that Takashi has felt like a piece of meat, but this ranks among the least pleasant.

As she steps over, another of the counsel stands.  Their long, deep red petals fall backward, giving the impression of flat, dyed braids instead.  "But this amount of metal is small," they say. Impatience washes over Takashi, edged with something jagged.  Competitive but mean. Her eyes watch the general with ill-concealed disdain. "Their limbs are nothing compared to the large machines we found.  Outsiders, those creatures are your ships?"

Takashi looks down at his bound wrists and says nothing.  The silence to his left proves Shiro has chosen the same.

The robed Vogn sighs, then raises a hand and clenches it.

Once again, the branches light up.  This time, it's not just a warning to get them to still.  It lasts several ticks, charging through Takashi and making every inch of his body light up with pain.  Absurdly, it reminds him of the weapon Haggar used on them during their second Zarkon fight. He felt that everywhere as well, and it has a similar, exhausting pull to it.

When it ends, Takashi is panting and leaning heavily on the branch.  It bends slightly from his weight, but not nearly enough to break. The vines around his arms don't just keep him in place —now they're helping keep him upright.

"You gain nothing from your silence, Outsiders.  What is the purpose of the metal creatures?"

Shiro still says nothing, even though Takashi can hear his heavy breathing.

On another day, Takashi might do the same.  But he was right before. They can't be too damaged to move, and he can't afford to die and damn Ryou.  So he has to cooperate.

Or, at least, appear to.

He looks up, eyes wide with curiosity.  "What metal creature?"

There's a murmur through the counsel.  Takashi eyes dart over each face, trying to figure out what nerve he'd hit.

The general steps closer again, eyes narrowed.  She takes his head and yanks it up further so she can look over his face.  "Can you not speak, Outsider?" Disgust is audible in her tone, and practically drips in his head.  This close, the mental effect is even more powerful. The shockwaves of it rock through Takashi's head, shaking his thoughts loose like a picture made of sand.

"Can you not understand us?" Shiro asks.  He raises his voice, drawing the attention in the room back to him.

The robed person narrows her eyes thoughtfully.

Turning, the general scoffs.  "We hear your voice, but you do not speak Deeply, Outsider."  Like with the term 'Outsider', the capital 'D' is audible. She's impatient, condescendingly so.  Like she's forced to deal with someone too stupid to follow basic concepts. "And yet you have metal on your bodies that use quintessence.  How do you have enough for one, yet you can't speak?"

So the Deep speech uses quintessence.  The Vogn must be able to manipulate the energy enough to create low-level psychic bonds, or something similar.  That would also explain why the general’s touch could make Shiro's arm react. It seems to be a limited range, though —the closer they are, the louder and more disorienting the 'speech'.  The robed being can still be felt, but it doesn't shake Takashi as much.

"You failed to answer my question," the robed one says.  Impatience colors their thoughts, but they're also watchful.  Curious, in a different way than the general's open interest.

Takashi frowns back. "I did.  I don't know what you're talking about."

The robed Vogn nods, at that, like they're not surprised.  Then they clench their hand again.

This time, it's Shiro alone who screams.

Takashi watches, ice forming in his chest as his counterpart writhes in pain.

Only a few ticks pass, but each one feels like a varga.  Finally, Shiro slumps forward, head limp as he sways on his feet.  He's still standing on his own power, but much more of that and he won't be.

Shit.   _ Shit. _

"I do not need Deep speech to hear a lie," the robed one says.  Her impatience rings through Takashi's head, cold enough to make him shiver.  "I would suggest telling the truth."

The general turns to frown at her.  "The Outsiders will not be able to answer questions if they are unconscious, Yvikna."

Yvikna ignores that comment utterly, which makes the general tense further.  "What are the creatures for? We found no other signs of transportation. Did they bring you here?"

Takashi swallows hard.  He could keep sticking to the lie, but he needs Shiro conscious if they have a chance to escape.  Either on their own or when their Ryous come for them, carrying an unconscious, 200+ pound man is not great for stealth or speed.

He also just doesn't like watching someone get hurt because of him.  Having or not having his face doesn't change that.

"They did," he finally admits.  The Vogn already suspect anyway.  If they had to drag the Lions here through the dirt and rock, then they must not have more effective means of transport, so they can't get too far away with them either.  "They fly, but only for certain pilots. We're the only two who can move the Lions. If we're unconscious or dead, you'll never have access to them."

One of the other members of the counsel  _ laughs _ at that.

Takashi stares at them, heart in his throat.

"You think we need your metals to fly?"  They say. Their white, wrinkled petals give the impression of advanced age, but their voice is clear and steady.  "Are all Outsiders foolish like you? This will be easier than we thought."

The general holds up a hand, which makes the older being go still.  "You used the ships to get in," she repeats, triumph in her Deeper tone.  "Which means you used them to get through to our realm. These creatures can travel through rifts?"

No. Oh, no.

"The rift was already open," Shiro says.  He coughs dryly, then picks up his head. "The two of us were investigating why it had appeared."

None of which was a lie.

Apparently, that's good enough for Yvikna, who regards Shiro.  Then she turns to yet another member of the counsel. "Why was the rift open so soon?"

Eyes wide, the Vogn shrinks away.  "It shouldn't be," they say, voice shaking, and Takashi only hears confusion.  "We made a connection to the viable worlds, but we couldn't get through it, and no one else has come through.  Only two tears have appeared, and that only happened after they came through."

The general scoffs.  "Just because you can't open one side of the door doesn't mean the other is locked as well.  I expect better of your scientists."

"Enough, Thren."  Yvikna's dark tone rumbles powerfully, even that far away.  Takashi's stomach flips, threatening to crawl up his throat.  "Even if the rift was open partially, the fact that these creatures could pass through is interesting.  Their metals are an absolute necessity for the disruptor, but there is no need to argue. After all, there are two.  We can use one for travel, and take one apart to finish our own machines."

Takashi stills, his heart freezing over.

They're going to take Black apart?

It shouldn't be possible.  The very idea is absurd. Taking the Black Lion apart for  _ scrap, _ like a junked old hoverbike is the most ridiculous thing Takashi has ever heard.  They'd lose Voltron. They'd lose  _ everything. _

No.  That can't be allowed.  “You can't!" Takashi leans forward, eyes bright as he scrambles desperately for a reason.  "The Lion is infused with too much quintessence. It's from a space inside the rift filled with nothing but chaotic energy.  The metal is the only thing containing it. Who knows what the energy from in the rift will do?"

There's a long pause.

Then Yvikna laughs.

"I think we understand much better than you.  You come through the rift, and you don't realize where you are?"  She finally sits again, shaking her head. Her amusement is tinged with thick, cloying condescension.  "Regardless of why the rifts are open now, we have an opportunity. The universe these two came from is clearly rich with metal.  They have it on their bodies, and they build huge ships of it. It even comes with quintessence already imbued in the minerals. It will be an ideal first target.  Thren, how quickly can your forces be ready?"

Thren visibly bristles at being ordered around so casually.  "A milliflare. Maybe two. Can your scientists finish the disruptor in that time?"

"Yes," says Vnikna.  Her eyes dart to the scared counsel member of before, who nods furiously.  "They will be."

The general turns, eyes darting from Takashi, then to Shiro.  "It will go faster if you have more metal to work with. The creatures are large and will take time to disassemble."

Horror trickles through Takashi's chest.  "Wait-"

The branch on his arms unwinds on his left half, and moves to curl with the other on his right.  Both take firm hold of his forearm.

Then they glow, and start to  _ pull. _

Pain shoots through Takashi, ripping a primal scream from him.  He can feel his shoulder joint creak from the awful pull. Something clicks and shifts within his arm as the purple lines appear, and his fingers twitch on their own.  Through the horrible, tearing sensation, he can tell it doesn't feel like something crushing in his arm —it feels like the limb itself is trying to crawl away from him.

Something pops in Takashi's shoulder.

His vision goes white.

It hurts.  It hurts more than anything Takashi can remember experiencing before.  Even losing it in the first place couldn't have felt like that. He doesn't know how he would have survived it.

"Stop!"  The voice is tiny, distant, only barely audible over the roaring in his ears and his own screams.  "You're killing him! We only work for one Lion each, you might need us!"

Black spots are starting to appear in Takashi's eyes when the pain suddenly dims.

Takashi blinks rapidly, forcing himself back into the moment.  His shoulder still hurts horribly, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat, but it's not the overwhelming pain of before.  At some point, he crashed to his knees, because now he's on his floor, arms up at an awkward angle. 

Judging by the pain and the popping sensation before, Takashi probably dislocated his shoulder when he fell down while still bound.

Shit.  Also,  _ ow. _

The branches unwind from his arm, letting his bound wrists fall down into his lap.  Takashi can't help a breathless whimper from the sudden movement. In the corner of his eye, he sees Shiro watching, his face pale and eyes huge.

"Take them back to their cells," Thren orders.  There's frustration lacing her tone, like Takashi and Shiro were being  _ difficult _ by not letting her physically rip off his arm.  "They're to be contained there until we need to determine which pilot to keep."

"Yes, General."  The center one steps up to Takashi and gestures upward with his gun, the signal to stand.

Takashi takes a deep breath, then obeys.  His shoulder  _ aches _ from the movement, but it's not enough to keep him down.  Besides, the next step is probably to yank him to his feet, which will be so much worse.

He and Shiro are corralled together again and led back through the courtyard.  Takashi tries to pay attention for more details about the Vogn army and their plans for their realities.  But each step jars his shoulder enough to utterly disrupt his focus. It's all he can do to put one foot in front of the other at this point.  The weight of the metal arm works against him, making each step all the more agonizing.

Shiro sticks close, practically hovering at Takashi's side.  More than once his arms jerk like he wants to reach out and help, but the binding prevents him.

The trip back to their cell is a blur.  Soon, the door opens, and they're both shoved in. Takashi cries out at the impact, and he has to lean against a wall to keep from collapsing down on the spot.  Shiro is at his side in an instant, sympathy in his eyes. Neither of them even look as the cell door is closed again.

"Do you need help to lay down?" Shiro asks.  

Takashi shakes his head.  A thin layer of sweat has broken over his skin, making him shiver.  "No. But my shoulder popped out. I'm going to need help with that."

Expression grim, Shiro nods.  With any luck at all, he got the same lessons from the Garrison, so he'll know what to do.

Lowering himself carefully onto his knees, Takashi lays back flat on his back.  He winces again, but after walking, this isn't nearly as painful. "I'm going to need you to help move my arm.  It's awkward when they're bound like this."

"Right."  Shiro takes hold of both his wrists and presses them to the ground.  He stretches Takashi's arm so it's extended all the way to the side. Anytime Takashi so much as winces, he pauses to let him collect himself, then starts again slowly.

Between them both, they move Takashi's arm up and back, like he's trying to scratch the back of his head.  Then, with one last gentle push on the elbow, there's a  _ pop. _

Takashi groans again, arching up off the ground.  But the joint is back in place, and he can finally move his arm properly again.  It still hurts like hell, but at least he's not utterly useless if he needs to fight.  

"How's that?" Shiro asks.  He sits back on his folded legs, looking Takashi over with a clinical eye.

Barking out a laugh, Takashi pushes himself up with his left arm.  "Still hurts like hell. But I'll survive."

Shiro nods.  "Don't get up.  The best thing you can do is give your shoulder a rest."  He looks at the door and sighs. "Does your Ryou keep anti-inflammatory with his medicine, by any chance?  That'd be the best thing for you right now."

Laying back down, Takashi frowns up at the wooden ceiling.  "Medicine? Is your Ryou a medic?"

There's a long silence.  "For his failsafe," Shiro finally says.  "Has that not happened for you? How long has your Ryou been around?"

Takashi closes his eyes as he mentally counts back the months.  "Um, I'm not sure." It had been nearly a month before he got back to the castle, and it took him nearly two months to warm up to him after that.  Then the time before he was a paladin, and missions after... the Voltron show... "Probably a year and change?"

"Oh."

Turning just his head, Takashi frowns at Shiro.  "Why do you ask? Is your Ryou sick?"

Shiro sighs.  "Kind of. In our universe, Haggar created a tiny difference in Ryou on purpose.  So minor that we had dozens of very intelligent beings look at it, and all but one missed it.  After a decafeeb, if he wasn't returned back to Haggar for another mission, his body and mind would start to break down."

Oh, indeed.

Pushing himself up, Takashi stares at his counterpart.  "That's horrible."

"Yes.  Yes it is."  Shiro looks down at his lap, lips pressed thin.  "He's doing fine now. Your Ryou has never been unusually forgetful and clumsy, has he?"

Takashi rakes his memory, cold fear digging through his stomach.  He can think of plenty of times Ryou has been odd or forgetful —he once spent a varga looking for a thin tool that he'd absentmindedly stuck behind his ear, while Shiro 'helped' and laughed.  But it's not regular, and nothing he would point to as a symptom. "I don't think so."

Nodding, Shiro meets his eyes.  "Good. When we get back to our Lions, I'll send you the data.  Just in case. You don't want to go through that."

His tone is flat, but it reveals a wealth of pain.

Takashi swallows and nods back.  "Thank you." They'll have to check when they get home.  Hopefully that's a fundamental difference between the clones, and his Ryou's timer just isn't longer.  Even if they have medicine and answers, he doesn't want to know what 'breaking down' looks like.

"So he won't have medicine, then."  Shiro sighs and slumps back against the wall.  "Hopefully my Ryou has his. He usually keeps it in the Lion's storage so he always has some handy, but clearly that's a problem right now."

Stomach sinking, Takashi looks over Shiro's face.  He's looking off into the distance, expression distant and flat, but the worry is still achingly obvious.  Maybe because he's seen the same look in a mirror. "How long can he skip doses?"

Shiro shrugs one shoulder. "He can go a few quintents without.  He shouldn't, but he can."

Well, that's hard to measure right now.  But Takashi still nods, trying to be encouraging.  "By then, we'll be long gone."

"Right."  Shiro doesn't look over, but he sets his jaw.

They had better be.  Because if they don't get out of here by then, then it'll probably be too late.  Takashi has no idea how long a 'milliflare' is, much less two, but he suspects it's fast.

Then, these plant people are going to launch an attack on at least one of their universes.

Universes where the Castle of Lions and the rest of Voltron are probably right outside.

No matter what, that's bad news.

Takashi doesn't need more than a glance to know that Shiro is thinking the same thing.

But between their slowly accumulating injuries and the constant, vigilant watch, their chances of a quick escape are becoming dangerously thin.

They need their Ryous.  And soon.


	4. Quiet

“Sooooo,” Ryou says, “How do we get in?”

“That's a good question,” Quiet answers.

Quiet’s not really sure how much time has passed since the disastrous attempt at diplomacy farther back in the strange moving forest. Even his helmet is no good for telling time; the ticks and doboshes seem to speed up or skip alarmingly quickly one moment, and then go slow as molasses the next. He’s not sure if it’s not functioning right in this strange other reality, or if this reality is just messing with his perception. It’s eerie either way.

But he does know they’d walked for some time to get to where they are now, following the deep drag marks in the strange earth. The drag marks end just ahead of them now and the Black Lion’s trail vanishes, but that hardly matters. 

They’ve found where the Lions were taken. 

It’s a huge complex, with hangars, out-buildings, vehicles, and storage containers all over the place. Everything looks natural, which matches the strange plant-guns the aliens they’d taken down had used or their odd armor. Honestly, it looks a little like something out of one of Lance’s or Pidge’s video games, combined with the Garrison. With the ever-present dusky atmosphere and the two gaping tears of the rifts in the sky above, though, the entire place looks downright sinister. 

It’s also crawling with more of those strange petal-headed people Quiet had tried to negotiate with. There’s dozens of them, some patrolling, others tending to various tasks around the facility. Everyone seems to have a job as far as Quiet can tell, from repairs on the strange organic-looking vehicles to transporting goods. There’s an awful lot of activity. 

Whatever this place is used for, they seem to be preparing for something. There’s certainly no way Quiet or Ryou are just walking in. 

“Here’s another good one,” Ryou says. He’s crouched next to Quiet behind the safety of one of the strange swaying trees, but glances over as he speaks. “Once we’re in, where do we  _ go? _ ”

It is a good question. The complex isn’t paved, exactly, but the ground transitions into something perfectly hard-packed and smooth as soon as the odd forest thins out. The drag marks from the Black Lion disappear the moment they cross over into the grounds without leaving a trace. They know the Lion has to be in there  _ somewhere,  _ but there’s no convenient trail to follow anymore.

Still, it’s not hopeless yet. “There's only so many places you could keep something the size of the Black Lion,” Quiet says reasonably. “ Much less two, or on such short notice. We didn’t exactly give them time to prepare.”

“That center building is at  _ least _ half the size of the Castle of Lions, and the Castle can fit about a hundred Black Lions easily,” Ryou counters, scanning the facility again. “And that's not including all the hangars on the perimeter of this place.” He glances back over at Quiet again, and asks hopefully, “You wouldn't happen to sense the Lion now that we're closer?”

“No such luck,” Quiet admits. “I've got nothing. But it's not as hard to block a connection as you might think.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Ryou mutters under his breath. 

It really isn’t, but there’s nothing Quiet can do about that, so he goes back to giving the facility another once-over. They’ll have to get in the old fashioned way, preferably without being seen, but that’s going to be a challenge in its own right. 

What he wouldn’t give for Pidge’s ship cloaking tech right now! He’ll have to ask her if it can be integrated into the paladin armor later, assuming he ever gets back at all. Camouflage would be dead useful right about now.

Although...now  _ there’s  _ an idea.

“Have you noticed that none of these aliens we’ve come across so far have managed to find us?” Quiet asks, thoughtfully. 

“We’re good at stealth, obviously,” Ryou says.

“We’re both decent enough,” Quiet agrees, “but we still stick out like sore thumbs here. You’re literally wearing all white—you practically glow in the dark here. My armor’s not much better even when I switch to this mode.” He gestures with one of his dark purple gauntlets. 

Ryou considers. “You’re right,” he says finally. “They didn’t notice me right up until I attacked that one guy. And I thought for sure they had us when you picked your dumb nickname, but their eyes went right over us.”

Quiet rolls his eyes a little at that. This other Ryou is  _ far  _ too obsessed with names, and probably childish enough to mock him over ‘Quiet’ from now until the end of time. Though admittedly, that last one  _ had  _ been more friendly teasing than being an ass. 

“Are they blind?” Ryou asks, thoughtful. “Since it seems like it’s always dark here?”

“No,” Quiet says. “They definitely see. When I was talking to that last group they did focus on me. But it’s…” He tries to think of how to explain. “They never really looked at my face, or my eyes. It’s like they were looking at what I was made out of, not at me, if that makes any sense,” he says finally.

“Sort of,” Ryou says. “I think. Kind of the same way when they talk there’s something else there, too. In your head.”

Quiet nods. “These people...I don’t think they sense things the same as us,” he says slowly. “And I think maybe we can use that, if we’re smart about it.”

“How so?”

Quiet considers. “Noise still catches their attention,” he says. “And movement, I think. They caught on to both when I went to talk to them. Every time a patrol has passed us by we’ve been quiet and still. Maybe stick to better hidden places to be safe.” 

“But otherwise just...walk right out there.” Ryou gestures at the facility. “In whatever the equivalent of ‘broad daylight’ is here.  _ Without  _ putting up a fight.” 

“A fight would draw attention,” Quiet says. “But yes. They do say the best way to get into any place is to act like you belong. And, honestly, we’re both living proof that it works, so I believe it.”

Ryou snorts at that. “Not wrong. Alright, fine—but if we’re doing this we’re doing it smart. I wasn’t interested in getting shot before and I’m not interested in it now. I’ll go out first and you cover me with that badass arm of yours. We’ll see if this idea even works.” 

Quiet raises an eyebrow. “Why you?”

“Because you’re the only one that’s armed and dangerous,” Ryou says, grinning. 

Quiet groans. “Really? You’re as bad as Lance. Have you no shame?”

Ryou’s still grinning. “I take that as a compliment, and I am absolutely shameless.”

No kidding. Quiet wonders how he does it, and then immediately smothers the thought.  _ Not now.  _

“But, no, seriously,” Ryou adds, sobering, “Of the two of us, you can do more effective long-distance damage faster with that Olkari weapon to these guys. That weird wood armor and bark skin is hard to punch through, and even when you  _ do  _ hurt them, that mental pain thing hurts up close. If we do get caught, better for you to be covering me so I can get out in a hurry.” 

That’s actually reasonable, so Quiet nods. “Okay. Make for those crates there—I’ll keep an eye out on enemies.” 

Ryou nods, and scoots forward around the tree they’re hiding behind. He glances left, Quiet confirms he’s safe on the right, and then he darts for the storage unit some fifty feet distant.

He’s almost there when Quiet catches sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. “Incoming,” he murmurs under his breath over the comms. “On your left.”

Ryou curses, but freezes, crouching in the shadow of the crates. To Quiet, he looks ridiculous—a bright white silhouette in the ever-present gloom, like a glowing ghost at dusk. Every instinct in him screams that Ryou will be caught, out in the open without even trying to hide. This was a stupid idea. 

But amazingly, the three petal-headed soldiers walk past within twenty feet of Ryou without even pausing. Quiet keeps his Olkari fingers trained on the leader of the trio, ready to power up and shoot the moment any of them stop and turn around to investigate, but none do. They move on in their patrol, rounding the bend of one of the warehouses, and disappear.

“Holy shit,” Ryou breathes. He gets up and half-crouches, half-walks safer into the safety of the crates, presumably for his own peace of mind more than anything else. “I can’t believe that  _ worked. _ ”

“They didn’t even look at you?” Quiet asks. 

“Sort of. One glanced in my direction, but for all he knew I was just part of the ground or the crates,” Ryou says. He keeps his voice low over the comms, but his incredulity is still strong even so. “As long as they don’t trip over us and we don’t move around or scream in their ears, I think this could actually work.”

“First bit of good news we’ve had so far,” Quiet says. At least they’re not  _ completely  _ at a disadvantage. “I wonder why they can’t see us?”

“Who cares, as long as it works? Here, it looks clear—hurry while you have the chance.” 

“Right.” Quiet doesn’t waste time, and darts across the facility until he’s next to the other Ryou.

They make their way through the facility like that, in frustratingly slow bursts as they time their frantic runs from cover to cover, with one of them watching and calling movement warnings while the other advances. It takes a long time, something neither of them are particularly happy about. Quiet can actually  _ see  _ Ryou getting visibly antsy, fidgeting during the agonizingly long spells of time where they’re crouched in cover waiting for patrols to pass so they can move. Even Quiet—who has definitely displayed  _ significantly  _ more of Shiro’s patience than this other so-called Shiro clone—chafes at the time it’s taking to make it across the grounds. 

Shiro could be hurting.  _ Both  _ of them. Quiet has no idea what kind of trouble they’re in, but he knows these people don’t play nice, now. Every tick they waste crossing the facility is a tick longer that either Shiro could be in trouble. It grates at the both of them.

But for all that, they both understand the necessity of stealth now, after that disaster back in the woods. They can’t take on every alien here. They could barely take on three. So as frustrating as it is, they stay put. Even this other Ryou, though it looks like it kills him to do so.

Quiet’s just glad he’s finally come to trust this Ryou enough to know he won’t go haring off across the grounds in a foolhardy wrecking-ball rescue attempt. Well, mostly, anyway. 

Quiet’s not sure how long it takes—damn this reality’s weird sense of time!—but they do eventually make it to the nearest of the hangars. It’s extremely slow going, but they manage to poke their head in—only to be met with disappointment. There’s several large machines and strange-looking organic vehicles, but the Black Lion would tower over all of them, and it’s conspicuously absent. 

“Strike one,” Ryou mutters grimly. 

So they sneak over to the next hangar with their now well-established stealth technique—and discover it just as frustratingly devoid of any part of Voltron. Then to the third hangar, now rushing more than they should and with two near-misses to their credit, only to find that one Lion-less as well.

“The others aren’t big enough for Black,” Quiet mutters to Ryou, from the safety of a stack of storage containers. 

“All that’s left is that center building,” Ryou says, nodding to the giant structure in the middle. “It could hold a  _ lot  _ of Black Lions.”

“If there were any doors big enough,” Quiet says. There’s been a couple of large gates—they might even act as hangars for more important vehicles. But he’s not sure if Black could squeeze into any of them, even cooperating enough to fold down its wings and crawl. 

“It’s the only option left,” Ryou argues. “Besides, if we can’t find it, we still need to get both Shiros out—and I’m willing to bet prisoners don’t go anywhere but in there.”

“You’re probably right,” Quiet admits. “Alright. Make for that side door, then. We’ll have some cover until we can get in.”

Getting in requires some tricky coordination and good timing to avoid being caught, but they manage. Once inside, though, they realize they have far bigger problems than just avoiding patrols.

Ryou groans. “This place is a  _ maze. _ ”

“Close enough,” Quiet agrees softly. They’ve been wandering for who knows how long, with no hint of progress. Every hallway looks identical, with the same grainy wood-like texture on the walls and the same bioluminescent lines in place of electric or crystal lights. They pass plenty of doors, some open and some not, but nothing is labeled with names or numbers. Not that they could probably read the language here even if they wanted to, but at least they could memorize the shapes and symbols to have some idea of where they were. Quiet’s not even sure if they’ve been in this hallway already.

“This is wasting too much time!” Ryou hisses in frustration.

Quiet’s not sure they’re wasting any time, technically—his visor’s clock appears to have stopped at some point. But he gets the sentiment anyway. 

“There has to be something,” he mutters. “I wish Pidge was here. She could hack a map or something.”

“From what? I haven’t seen any computers,” Ryou grouses. 

Fair point, actually. Now that he mentions it, Quiet doesn’t remember seeing any either. Or anything even remotely resembling technology in the traditional sense. In fact, he’s pretty sure the only metal he’s seen at all since coming here is on his own person, or Ryou’s. 

“They have to have some way to navigate,” Quiet says. “Or record information, or  _ something.  _ They’re not stupid. All of this is advanced—just a different kind than we’re used to. If we could—”

“Shush!” Ryou interrupts, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him back against the wall. 

By now, they’ve both done this enough that Quiet doesn’t startle—instead he freezes immediately. The footsteps Ryou must have caught onto get louder a moment later, and a door opens nearby as one of the flower aliens steps out, dressed in what looks more like a uniform than combat gear. He’s only ten feet away—the closest they’ve ever gotten to any of these people while trying to stay unseen.

Quiet holds his breath. Next to him, he can feel Ryou doing the same.

The flower-person glances over the hallway absently, bright pink head-tendrils twitching. His pale, nearly white eyes flicker over Ryou and Quiet, and freeze for a moment. He squints in confusion. Quiet tenses.

But then the flower-person shakes his head as though dazed, and blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to clear his eyes. “Too much transference,” he mutters to himself. “I should speak to the superiors. Not healthy.” And he turns, closing the door behind him and heading off down the hallway.

But not before Quiet catches the reflection of a curious glow from the inside of that room. 

“That was too close,” Ryou breathes softly. “We’re lucky he—what are you doing?”

“Call it a hunch,” Quiet says. “I saw something in there. And Pidge makes the same face that guy did after she stays up all night staring at screens.” 

Ryou raises an eyebrow at that, but follows after as Quiet carefully opens the door and pokes his head in. The room is empty of anything alive—but there’s three twisted, natural looking chairs in the room, and three circular bioluminescent panels on the tables in front of each, glimmering softly. 

Those don’t look like lights. They look like have far more significance than that.

“I wonder if this is what passes for tech here,” Quiet says, striding for the nearest one. “Maybe we can get some intel.” He reaches out to touch it, but Ryou grabs his other wrist and yanks him back.

“Speaking from personal experience,” the other clone says bluntly, “touching tech you don’t know anything about tends to end  _ really  _ badly.”

Boy, can Quiet relate to that. He flexes his Olkari fingers compulsively, reminding himself he has full control without even thinking about it, but then shakes his head. “Not like we have other options,” he says. “If something weird happens, feel free to drag me out. Or knock me out. Whichever comes first.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” Ryou says, scowling a little. “I am not opposed to punching somebody with my face if they deserve it.”

“Duly noted,” Quiet says, and presses his Olkari hand to the panel. 

Nothing happens. 

“Huh,” Ryou says, after a moment. “I was sort of expecting...well, anything, really.” 

Quiet hums softly in agreement, drawing his hand back as he frowns down at the panel. What had the alien called it? Transference?  _ Something  _ happened in here. There’s nothing else in this room to interact with but whatever these are. 

He’s thinking too much like a human. He needs to think like one of  _ these  _ people.

And for these people...everything else here is natural. These aren’t real computers, to be interfaced with like Shiro’s Galra arm. Everything here is organic. His Olkari arm mimics life exceptionally well, but it’s not really  _ alive  _ in the traditional sense.

Acting on impulse, he presses his left hand to the panel instead. 

The effects are immediate. Suddenly he’s seeing, but it’s like daydreaming too, staring into the abyss while his mind works overtime in the background. He watches things in his mind instead as a whole cacophony of impulses and images and concepts pour into his head. 

He jerks his hand away from the panel with a yelp of surprise. 

“You okay?” Ryou asks, alarmed—and a little wary too, Quiet notes.

“Fine,” he gasps. “Just surprised. It’s a little...overwhelming.” Then he laughs softly. “But I was right. It’s definitely their version of a computer. I think if we figure out how to use it we can figure out where the Lions are.”

Ryou’s wariness recedes, replaced by curiosity, and he reaches forward with his own left hand to touch one of the other panels. He jerks back a moment later, alarmed. “Shit,” he gasps. “It’s like it downloads straight into your brain.”

“Not surprising, considering how they talk,” Quiet points out.

Ryou shrugs, uncharacteristically quiet. He rubs his left fingers together, like he’s trying to clean something dirty off his glove. 

Quiet gets the distaste. Everything that they both  _ had  _ been was the result of something just like this—forcibly downloading all sorts of memories and personality quirks into their brains to make them someone else. It’s unsettling to think that anything could do that to them again, even if it’s just regular data. 

_ Everything  _ you  _ still mostly are,  _ some insidious little voice in his brain corrects.  _ You haven’t changed much at all, have you? This other guy seems to be doing just fine for himself by comparison.  _

Quiet grits his teeth and hopes the other him doesn’t notice—or that if he does, he chalks it up to nerves over the strange computer. He forcibly shoves the little thought to the back of his brain, like he has been since this whole mess started.  _ Not. Now.  _

Instead, he says, “It’s not ideal, but if it gives us a chance to find our way through this maze, I’ll risk it. I don’t think both of us have to bother, though. If you keep watch, I can try using this thing.”

Ryou frowns. “It really doesn’t bother you? To have that reminder just...waved in your face? Things messing around in your head?”

“We are what we are,” Quiet says. “I don’t like what they did to either of us, and being reminded of it sucks. But they were stupid enough to give me unique weapons, and if I have them, I’m using them my way to protect my family and friends.” 

Ryou mulls that over for a moment. “I get that,” he says finally. “Go ahead. I’ll keep watch.”

The second attempt at the panel is smoother this time. There’s a lot of information vying for attention in his head all at once, but Quiet finds that if he concentrates, some of it fades to the background. Now, how does he search? It’s not like he has a keyboard or screen to interface with.

He tries thinking of an image of the Black Lion, but that does nothing.  _ Wrong,  _ he reminds himself.  _ You’re thinking like a human again. Think like they do.  _ So he tries again, and this time, after remembering the odd echoing impressions of these people’s speech patterns in his head, he tries thinking about how the Black Lion  _ feels.  _ Its quintessence, its power, its spiritual strength. 

That gets a hit. The natural computer or whatever it is recognizes that, and most of the data draws back. He’s suddenly aware that something matching that exact impression is about six stories down and slightly behind him, and a second is on the same level and to his front left. 

_ The Lions!  _ They really are here.  _ Both  _ of them.

Relieved, Quiet tries to broaden his question, thinking about awareness of how to get there. The natural computer struggles to understand him at first—it works by thought, but not organic, living thoughts, not like interfacing with Black. But Quiet keeps trying to rephrase his thought-questions, and eventually he manages to get what he’s pretty sure is a floor plan in his mind. He makes an effort to memorize it, and the computer helpfully presses it into his brain, downloading it into his natural memory.

That is  _ very  _ unsettling—suddenly, he just inexplicably  _ knows  _ the general floor-plan and how to get to the Lions, when he didn’t a moment ago. Despite his big words to Ryou just a few doboshes ago, it sends a chill up his spine, and he wishes he could scrub his brain out.   
  
But he won’t waste the opportunity while he has it. So he asks the computer next about the black bayard—conveying its combative quintessence, the feel of its power—and lastly, about Shiro, and the way Shiro’s mind feels when Quiet talks to him through the Black Lion. Both get hits as well, although Shiro is more muddied. Perhaps this interface doesn’t do as well sensing living things, or maybe Shiro’s been moved around too much. Whatever the case, he has the computer mark the locations of each on the map in his head, shuddering only a little at the feel of it being downloaded directly into his brain.

It’s all for Shiro. If this gets them both out of there, it’ll be worth it.

He breaks contact with the natural computer and finds that although most of the information fades from his memory quickly, like a dream on waking, the things he’s actively requested are still securely nestled in his brain. That’s a relief. The way his eyes swim as he tries to refocus on seeing physically and not seeing mentally is less so.

“Too much transference,” he groans softly. “Now I get what that guy meant.” And that alien was adapted for this. 

“We need to move,” Ryou hisses sharply, from directly next to him. 

Quiet jerks in surprise and blinks rapidly, trying to get his vision back. This is  _ weird.  _ Ryou must get that something is wrong, because he hisses, “Shush,” and grips him by the upper arm, leading him somewhere. Quiet gets the general impression that they leave the room, head down the hall fairly quickly, and duck into another, where Ryou nudges him against a wall. Footsteps pass outside only moments later. “Okay, clear. You good? What’s wrong?”

“Give me a sec.” His vision’s starting to reorient, and he blinks a few more times, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. “Ugh. I don’t think people are really supposed to do that.”

“Lucky us,” Ryou mutters. “What happened?”

“Thought-seeing is not the same as eye-seeing,” Quiet says, “And I’m pretty sure I just downloaded a floor plan into my head, which is...let’s call it ‘disorienting,’ but I think I know where we’re going.” He blinks again and looks around. The room’s slipping back into his vision now—this one looks like an office of some kind, with desks and chairs—and he can make out Ryou’s face swimming into focus in front of him.

Ryou actually looks concerned, but doesn’t push it, which is a nice change of pace. Shiro would have been building himself into an overprotective moment by now. “Okay. Lead on, then.”

“One sec.” Quiet pops up his holographic display on his gauntlet and sketches out a crude map on the interface, based on the clear image in his head. It’s not as neat as Pidge’s high-tech maps they use on missions, but it will do in a pinch. He marks the Lions, the holding area for captured weapons and armor, and the prisons, as well as all exits, and then waves his wrist at Ryou. “In case we get separated.”

Ryou looks impressed as he transfers the map to his own gauntlet. “Hopefully we won’t be, but that’s never how these things go, is it?”

“Never, in my experience. We clear?”

“Halls are empty, for the moment.”

“Alright.” Quiet pokes his head out the door of the empty office, and then points to the right. “This way.” Ryou follows after silently.

Now that he’s managed to dig up an actual map of the place, navigating is relatively easy. There’s a strange sort of pattern to it Quiet hadn’t noticed before—a natural one, mathematically precise and yet strangely organic all in one, and the twists and turns make a weird kind of sense now. 

He handles navigation, and Ryou takes charge of listening for and warning about incoming threats. When soldiers or facility personnel come towards them, they duck into side rooms or hallway corners and try to be as inconspicuous and out of the way as possible. By some miracle, it works. 

It becomes routine. In a way, that’s good; it means the two of them are getting used to working with the other, and understanding the patterns of the enemy. In other ways, it’s bad, because the moment this becomes something Quiet can do relatively easily on autopilot, he has time to  _ think _ ...and his thoughts have been all manner of confusing since he got here. 

There’s another him. His current combat partner is a Ryou from  _ another  _ reality—a clone that had also defected and joined Voltron, and somehow lived to tell the tale. And that’s incredible, in a way. Baffling as the reaction had been, he actually understood his counterpart’s excitement at realizing he wasn’t alone. 

Except this Ryou is so  _ different,  _ too. He’s childish and obnoxious at times, and prone to hitting first and asking questions never. In any other situation Quiet expects he’s the type to be loud, brash, and the center of attention. As Ryou himself had stated, he’s completely shameless, and as completely and utterly  _ un-Shiro  _ as it’s possible to be while wearing that face.

It’s annoying. It’s not anything he’d ever want to be. But even so, Quiet can’t help but feel a stab of jealousy every time this other Ryou does anything that’s so distinctly  _ personalized. _

It’s absolutely  _ stupid  _ and Quiet tells himself that repeatedly. They don’t have time for such ridiculous, petty reactions. But Quiet’s never had a chance to deal with anything like envy before either—there’s never  _ been  _ another clone before now. And now’s not the time to figure it out. 

So he manages by putting on Shiro’s Black Paladin persona, because it’s the easiest thing to fall back on in a high stress situation. It makes him a little more distant, and he’s aware of the hypocrisy of retreating farther into Shiro’s personality to deal with enviousness over anyone managing to  _ not  _ be Shiro, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

He’d expected it to get easier when Ryou had stopped being as much of an instigator. The fact that he was a little more personable now only seems to make it worse, though—mostly because he’s clearly still his own person, only now  _ not  _ trying to be as much of an ass. It means continuing to wear the Black Paladin mask just makes Quiet look like a jerk. 

This really shouldn’t be so confusing. He’s overthinking it. He always does.

But damn it, how does this Ryou make being a different person from Shiro look so damn  _ easy?  _

“Is that it?” Ryou asks.

Quiet blinks. A quick check of his mental map against the thick doors ahead, and he nods. “The closest Lion should be through there.” 

They ease their way through the doors, tense, but nobody notices as they slip through and duck behind a workbench. They’re in another huge hangar, but this time it looks like the doors are actually in the ceiling, designed to part for a large ship.

“We’re underground,” Ryou says softly. “No wonder we couldn’t figure out where the Lion went—they dragged her over the doors, opened them, and dropped her in. We’re under the grounds themselves.” 

Quiet nods in agreement, eyes focused on the ship dominating the center of the room.

Even powered down, the Black Lion is a sight to behold in this place. The walls, floor, and ceiling, even the furniture and tools scattering the area, are all organic. The Black Lion looks surprisingly alien by comparison, its comet-metal body glimmering in the bioluminescent light. It’s sprawled on its side, giant metal paws akimbo and head flopped brokenly to the left, with one wingplate jammed awkwardly into the ground, which supports Ryou’s assessment that they really had just  _ dropped  _ it in. 

There’s soldiers and scientists in the room, but most of them keep their distance from the Lion. They seem in awe of it—and well they should, Quiet realizes. If he hasn’t seen metal at all in this place since arriving, then the Black Lion is made of an unknown or highly coveted and rare substance, and either means treating it with respect and caution. 

All the better for them, at least. The less people messing with Black, the better. “Ready?” he asks.

“Let’s rescue the cat,” Ryou agrees. “So we can rescue both Shiros, so we can rescue the other cat. I’ll be glad to see this whole mess done with.”

“Amen to that,” Quiet mutters. “Opening in three...two...one... _ go! _ ”

They dart across from their workbench to the Black Lion as several scientists turn their backs. A patrol comes around a moment later, but the two of them manage to duck between two of Black’s enormous claws on its outstretched left forepaw, and the soldiers trot by without seeing them. 

It’s silly—even now, Quiet can’t feel Black at all—but he likes to think the Lion is deliberately sheltering them. 

Once the patrol passes, they manage to scurry to the Black Lion’s belly hatch, thankfully hidden enough by the same foreleg that they won’t be immediately spotted. The hatch doesn’t open immediately, since Black is still powered down. But thankfully there are still ways to get in even when all systems are offline, or a paladin could get trapped inside. He and Ryou manage to lever open the belly hatch between them and slip inside, closing it behind them with barely a hiss. 

“What was that?” a voice says, and Quiet faintly feels an echo of confusion with the words. 

Crap. Of course they put guards inside. Black’s particle barrier was gone—it couldn’t keep them out if it wanted to.

Two guards step out of the interior into the storage area of the Lion. Ryou immediately charges, summoning his shield on his right arm and twisting it sideways. He smashes the shield into both of them, cracking them back up against the wall with a dull  _ thud.  _ Both let out soft  _ woofs  _ of surprise as the breath is knocked from their lungs, and equally stunned impressions flutter across Quiet’s mind. 

Ryou’s stun is more than successful, but this time he doesn’t press the attack. Instead he ducks aside at the last moment, out of the way—just as Quiet’s Olkari arm finishes charging up enough for a decent pair of shots.

The guards don’t stand a chance. Two quick blasts and it’s over; there’s one sharp flicker of surprised pain from each mind, but they’re gone too fast for anything to really register. 

“Think we’re clear,” Ryou says, poking his head into the area the guards had come from. “Not hearing anyone else.”

“Good,” Quiet says, powering down his arm. “Nice move there, by the way. That went way smoother than the last fight.”

Ryou shrugs. “Last time I didn’t realize you were a sniper. Now I know. Besides, now that we’ve  _ finally  _ recovered this stupid Lion, I’m not about to lose it.” 

Quiet raises an eyebrow at that. “You’re not really fond of the Black Lion, are you?” It’s not the first time he’s made a snide remark regarding Black.

“I don’t hate her,” Ryou says, “But let’s say...we’ve gone our separate ways.”

He’d gathered as much, based on Ryou’s reactions regarding the Black Lion when they’d first met. Even so, Quiet can’t imagine what that’s like. The few short weeks the Black Lion hadn’t responded to him, back when he’d still thought he was Shiro, had been  _ painful.  _ He’d remembered that bond so intensely and then he’d lost it. He doesn’t even want to think about what that would be like, permanently. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

Ryou waves it aside. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “I prefer Yellow, anyway. He’s obviously the superior Lion.”

Quiet stares. “You fly Yellow?” he asks, stunned. 

“Sure,” Ryou says proudly. “I upgraded.”

“Huh,” Quiet says, thoughtful. “That...explains a few things.” A lot of things, actually, like Ryou’s wrecking-ball defense approach to this entire mission so far. He’s a Yellow Paladin. Of  _ course  _ that’s his approach. 

_ He’s so damn different even a different Lion recognizes him,  _ that insidious little voice whispers.  _ Why can’t you figure yourself out like that?  _

_ Not. Now,  _ he growls internally. 

He  _ likes  _ Black. That’s not even the problem here. He doesn’t  _ want  _ another Lion. But even so, he wonders what it must be like, to be so different in his own head that another Lion recognizes those new traits enough to even take notice. 

“I can tell you some stories later, if you want,” Ryou says. “About flying Yellow, and how I figured it out. But for now, we do kind of need someone who can fly Black, so let’s get this mission on the move. Our Shiros are in danger.”

“Right,” Quiet agrees, snapping out of his thoughts. He takes the lead, heading up for the cabin of the Black Lion, with Ryou hot on his heels. 

When he actually makes it to the familiar cabin interior, he makes a quick detour, first. The cabinet with the first aid gear is still intact, and the kit is still inside in the medic’s bag, so these flower people haven’t looted Black yet, at least. That’s a relief.

But when he paws through the contents of the kit, he frowns. The spare travel case of pills he knows he left in the Black Lion isn’t here, and that’s when he really starts to get nervous. The rifts had appeared so suddenly back in his reality; he’d barely had time to get into his armor, let alone grab his dormancy medication. It hadn’t concerned him, since he and Shiro were taking off in the Black Lion, anyway, and he always kept spares there for trips. Why weren’t they here now?

The answer’s fairly obvious. This isn’t  _ his  _ Black Lion.

Ryou regards him quizzically as he digs through the first aid kit. “Problem?” he asks. “ ‘cause the pilot’s seat is  _ that  _ way.” He gestures to the chair pointedly. Quiet can practically feel his fidgeting from here—he obviously wants them to get moving as soon as possible. 

“In a second,” Quiet says, frowning. “You don’t have spare medication in here? No, of course.” He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot. “You  _ just  _ said you fly Yellow. There’s no need for you to keep backup meds in Black.”

Ryou stares at him. “Backup meds?”

“The dormancy medication,” Quiet says. That only earns him a blank look. Maybe they call it something else in his reality? “For the failsafe,” he clarifies.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Failsafe?”

“The...the failsafe genetics?” Quiet frowns as Ryou shakes his head. “Uh...I’m sorry if this is digging a little deep, but, um...when were you activated?”

Ryou’s eyebrows both raise at that. Quiet doesn’t blame him. It’s a coldly clinical sort of question and makes them both sound like objects, but it’s the only way Quiet can really think of to describe it. After a moment, Ryou says slowly, “I ‘escaped’ maybe a little over a year ago? I think?”

Quiet frowns. That would line up with when his own symptoms had started showing, then, but Ryou hasn’t displayed any of the symptoms Quiet had, as far as he knows. “It should have activated already, in theory...is it a different time for you? Or maybe you don’t have one?”

“ _ What  _ are you talking about?” Ryou asks. “You mentioned genetics? Are you not quite the same?” A thought seems to strike him. “Can you not taste anything?”

Now it’s Quiet’s turn to stare. “Taste? Of course I can taste. What—you  _ can’t? _ ” 

“Nope,” Ryou says. “I have taste buds, but I always figured they didn’t work because of something neurological. But maybe it’s genetic. Is that what you’re talking about?”

“No,” Quiet says. “How did that even  _ pass?”  _

Ryou bristles at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Quiet regrets his choice of words almost immediately, as well as his carelessness. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless. I didn’t didn’t mean it like that, I just...sorry.” 

He’s just thrown off by it. It doesn’t make sense to him. He remembers bits and pieces of his own creation, after getting sick the first time. Shiro’s memories had broken down in his head, and... _ other  _ things had started to work their way to the surface. Clones in his reality had been killed for lesser failures. He remembers that much. 

He fights back a shudder.  _ Nope. Shut it down. Not going there now. We have Shiros to save.  _

Ryou’s still bristling a little, but breathes once, enough to visibly calm down. Then he shrugs uncomfortably. “I’m not sure it really mattered to them, and I’m not complaining. I like being alive, even without taste.” 

That’s a hard line to argue with, so Quiet doesn’t. “Fair enough, but that’s still cruel anyway. Not being able to taste. That’s just... _ wrong. _ ”

Ryou snorts. “Now you sound like Hunk.”

“I should hope so,” Quiet mutters. “He taught me everything there is to know about a flavor palette before he’d even let me in the kitchen.”

That seems to genuinely catch the other clone by surprise. “Woah, wait. You cook? Like, Hunk-approved cooking?”

“It seemed like something worth learning,” Quiet says. He finally sighs and drops the first aid kit on the floor. It might be useful later, but it won’t do him any good now. “Let’s just get the others.” 

He settles in the pilot’s chair, but Ryou puts a hand on his shoulder before he can reach for the controls. “Hold up,” he says. “I am  _ well  _ practiced in Shiro evasion techniques. Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding the question. What’re these meds you were looking for?”

Of course he’d notice that. Quiet sighs. He’d spoken easily about it before because he’d assumed it was something Ryou had already dealt with. He’s never had to actually  _ explain  _ his unusual illness to anyone before, though. The rest of the team had been with him through all of it the last time, and it’s a closely kept secret from anyone else since he can’t run around revealing he’s a clone. Admitting to it now feels disgustingly like admitting to a weakness. 

But if anyone deserves an answer, it’d be another clone like him. If Ryou even has a  _ chance  _ of staring this down later on, he needs warning now. 

So he says, “Let’s just say that without them I start to get sick. Really, really sick.”

Ryou seems to mull that one over, expression going solemn. After a moment, he finally says, “I’m guessing you’re not talking a bad cold or flu.”

“No,” Quiet says softly. “I’m really not.” He sighs. “I can explain in more detail later, once we’ve rescued the others. You have a right to know what could happen. But now’s...not really the time. And Shiro would be better at explaining, anyway. He...remembers the details better than I do.”

Ryou frowns at that. He looks like he wants to ask more, but he also seems to realize this isn’t the time or the place, too. So instead, he says, “You gonna be okay? You were looking for them for a reason, obviously.”

“For now, I’ll be fine.”  _ I hope.  _ He’s not sure how long they’ve been here, or how time works here, but he’s hoping he’s got a few quintents to work with, at least. 

“Alright,” Ryou agrees, and finally takes his hand off Quiet’s shoulder, letting him reach for the controls. 

Quiet does, wrapping his fingers around each of the levers. “Since my stuff wasn’t in here, this is your Lion,” he warns. Ryou makes a disgruntled noise, and Quiet corrects, “Your  _ reality’s  _ Lion. I think I can still bond with it—”

“Her,” Ryou corrects absently. “She thinks she’s a queen, you’d better not offend her. I bet that goes badly with the whole ‘bonding’ thing.”

Quiet rolls his eyes. “Fine,  _ her,  _ but it’ll take a little bit of time. Just make sure we don’t get interrupted.”

“That, I can do,” Ryou agrees.

“Great.” And Quiet closes his eyes, tightening his fingers around the control levers as he settles into the meditative state used for communicating directly with a Lion of Voltron. 

_ Hello? Are you there?  _

He doesn’t get an answer, but he can sort of... _ feel  _ this Black Lion. It’s— _ her _ —presence is here, but it feels distant. That’s not an entirely unfamiliar feeling to Quiet; it’s like trying to hear the Lion on the other side of a building, through a dozen closed doors. But it’s more than that, too. Her mind is dulled and unresponsive. It’s like she doesn’t hear him in return.

_ Hello?  _ He calls again with his mind. Stronger this time, more insistent.  _ I’m not here to intrude, or take you from your other paladins. But we need to talk. It’s about saving Shiro.  _

If anything would catch a Lion’s attention, it would be saving their paladin. But Black doesn’t react even a little. He can still  _ feel  _ her mind, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even seem to notice him. 

_ Please,  _ he tries, a little more desperate now.  _ We need your help. Let me help you—if you bond with me, I can help you power up, and we can save your Shiro. Please. They’re going to die if we don’t do something.  _

But there’s no answer. 

“Anything?” Ryou asks. “Because I notice nothing has turned on.”

Quiet jumps in surprise, but then shakes his head. “I’ve only been trying for a little bit.”

“I hate to break it to you, but it’s been more than ‘a little bit,’ “ Ryou says. “Time is all kinds of messed up here, but I’ve watched the guards outside do at least two circuits while keeping watch.” 

Quiet frowns. That long? “Something’s wrong,” he says. “I can’t even talk to her.”

Ryou raises an eyebrow. “You sure it’s not just because it’s our reality’s version of Black? I can’t talk to her, either.”

Quiet shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. I can  _ feel  _ her, but I can’t communicate. It’s like...it’s like she’s asleep, somehow. Can’t consent to a bond or accept any quintessence I can offer without being conscious. If she was awake, I think I could pull it off, though.”

“What the hell can just put a Lion of Voltron to  _ sleep? _ ” Ryou asks, unsettled. “Is there any way to wake her up?”

“Not sure. Not here, I don’t think.” He taps his fingers on the control levers thoughtfully, and then says, “Hang tight. I’m gonna check the astral plane.”

“Check the  _ what?” _

But Quiet is already concentrating, closing his eyes and sinking into that state of mind he’s found to travel into that other plane of existence. It’s harder, without Black to help him. But he’s had enough practice by now he mostly knows the way on his own, and he can feel this version of Black just enough to act as a guiding light. 

He follows the trail and suddenly finds himself in that strange other world of eternal eclipses and bright stars. It’s familiar, by now, and he’s had enough practice to automatically assign a concept of the ground at his feet the moment he enters. 

But something is  _ different  _ about this place, this time. It’s normally a world of blacks and purples, but now there’s shimmering lines of blue quintessence, the same color as the aliens’ bioluminescent lights, criss-crossing through the air like a spider’s web. The web draws closer and thicker the farther down Quiet follows the threads, sticking to the enormous bulk of the Black Lion some twenty yards distant. 

_ That  _ can’t be good.

Quiet launches himself forward in a rush. Neither he nor Shiro have quite managed to master the teleporting technique Shiro swears Zarkon managed to use here, but they’ve figured out how to enhance their perceived strength and speed to absurd levels, and it only takes two bounds to make it to the Lion. He avoids the strange blue quintessence webs as he paces around the Lion to her head, and presses his hand to her muzzle. 

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

This close, he can feel a sleepy murmur in response from the Lion. But it’s like talking to someone who’s dreaming. He’s not even sure she knows he’s there. 

“Black? C’mon. Can you break this?”

No answer. He feels that mind sluggishly recognize his voice, but she can’t seem to do much more than that. 

Quiet curses. Still avoiding the webs, he leaps up on top of her head, and then with an enhanced bound, up again onto one of her extended wingplates. 

The Lion is completely surrounded by the strange webbing. Whatever it is, it acts like a shield or a wall of some kind, and it’s keeping her asleep. Worse, in the very far distance he can see another similar mound like this one, also surrounded by shimmering blue lines of power. He can just barely make out the shape of another wingplate, identical to the one he’s currently standing on. 

Another Black Lion.  _ His  _ Black Lion. The one he’d bonded to, and also trapped. 

“We’re in over our heads,” he whispers to himself. 

Then he shakes his head, leaps down, and presses his hands and forehead to the Black Lion’s muzzle once again. “Listen,” he says, trying to convey as much strength and feeling as possible, hoping at least a little of it gets through the Lion’s dreamlike state. “I know you don’t know me, and I’m sorry, but we’ll have to run. But we’re going to come back, okay? For both of you. We’re going to get your paladin, and then we’ll come back and help you wake up. Just hang in there.” 

The Black Lion doesn’t react strongly, but there is a sleepy little murmur, and the faintest hint of recognition, before that mind fades again. 

That’s about all he can do for the Lion. Quiet sighs, and breaks the connection to the astral plane, returning his mind to the real one.

“—riously, this isn’t funny. If you went and died on me I swear I will punch you—”

“What kind of threat is that?” Quiet grouses, coming back to awareness to the sensation of being shaken. He opens his eyes to find both of Ryou’s hands are on his shoulders, and his counterpart looks a little frantic. “If I’m dead what do I care if you punch me?”

“ _ I’d  _ feel better,” Ryou says, snappish. “What the heck was  _ that? _ ”

“I went to the astral plane,” Quiet says, brushing Ryou’s hands off his shoulders. “You know...the starry place where Zarkon and Shiro fought mentally? Did that happen in your reality?”

“It did,” Ryou says, “but neither of us would have known what it looked like on the outside. Warn a guy next time! You can’t just...drop a bombshell like ‘hey, I could get really sick’ and then immediately  _ pass out like a corpse  _ and expect me to just not react!”

“Sorry,” Quiet apologizes sincerely. “I thought you already knew. I’d have warned you otherwise. It... _ is  _ sort of disconcerting to see, the first time.”

“Damn straight,” Ryou grumbles. Then he sighs. “Did you figure anything out, at least?”

“Yeah. We’re in trouble.” He describes the strange quintessence webbing he’d seen, and adds, “Bet it’s because of these flower people, somehow.”

“No bet. Too easy.” Ryou scowls. “So these people are the reason the Lions shut down in the first place. Which means we’re not busting out of here with a Lion to mount a rescue.”

“Nope,” Quiet agrees. “It’s the Lions that are going to need rescuing. We just...need to figure out how.”

“ _ After  _ we get our Shiros,” Ryou says. “We  _ have  _ to get them out. The Lions can hold out for a while. We don’t know what state the others are in though.”

Quiet nods in agreement. “One detour before that, though,” he says. “I’ve got their captured gear marked on the map, too. I have a feeling they’re gonna want their helmets and bayards before this is through.”

“Bayard, singular,” Ryou corrects. “We didn’t bring ours. Didn’t think it’d be a serious trip. But we’ll need everything we can get. You can lead us there?”

“Yes,” Quiet says confidently. The downloaded map is still as clear in his head as before, and while that’s still disconcerting, it’s also useful. “If we’re not breaking out of here now, then let’s shove those two guards in a storage unit, just so we don’t leave a trail. Hopefully they’ll think these guys were just playing hooky, not ambushed. Then we head out.”

It feels a little wrong to leave a couple of corpses stuck inside Black, but, well...she’ll understand. He hopes.

“Good call,” Ryou agrees. If he has any compunctions about doing the same, he certainly doesn’t show them. “We should bring that, too,” he adds, gesturing to the medkit bag still on the floor. “No idea what shape either Shiro will be in.”

“Hopefully it’ll be covered by whatever weird camouflage we’re using too,” Quiet says, but he picks up the bag and slings it over his shoulder. “We can dump it if we have to, but I agree. Any advantage we can get.”

Ryou nods. Both of them wear expressions of grim determination, starkly identical. They’re done with letting this place push them around, and one way or another, their Shiros are going to be  _ free  _ before too much longer.

Despite all their differences, that is one thing they can absolutely agree on.


	5. Shiro

Shiro paces restlessly in the prison cell. 

He shouldn’t be, really. He should be conserving his energy for a potential escape. But there’s too much on his mind and it makes him restless. There’s no other way to burn off that energy, so he paces. Seven steps forward, seven steps back.

He’s mindful of the other occupant of the cell as he does. Takashi’s stretched out on the floor on the other side of the room, dozing. That interrogation had done a number on both of them; even Shiro is still a little sore from the painful bindings. But Takashi had definitely come out of it worse off, and even if they’d managed to reset his shoulder, he still needs to rest. Shiro had offered to keep watch, limited though his ability might be, so Takashi would have a chance to recover at least a bit.

Prison had apparently taught both of them to catch their sleep where and when they could, because despite the hard floor and the prison conditions, it hadn’t taken much for Takashi to doze off. It was even easier when you were fully confident your cellmate wasn’t going to try and shank you for your title the moment you dropped your guard.

_ Not that I’d need it anyway,  _ Shiro thinks idly. He’s fairly certain they’d  _ both  _ been Champion, based on the brief discussions they’d had earlier. It’s not a happy thought. He wouldn’t wish his time as a prisoner on anyone else in the universe, much less in other realities. It’s awful that it had to happen to more than one of them.

He shakes his head, and his thoughts return to the matter at hand. The Vogn are planning an attack, on either or both of their realities. They’re dangerous, they can manipulate quintessence, and there’s several valuable quintessence-infused warships waiting on the other side of  _ both  _ of those rifts, ripe for the taking. And Shiro and Takashi are both stuck here, in a prison cell, unable to do anything about it. 

Shiro’s mind scrambles desperately for some way to escape. There must be some detail, some hint,  _ anything  _ that he’s missed, that will let him and Takashi get out of here. There  _ has  _ to be. 

But he can’t think of anything, and he’s not sure how much time they have left. Those Vogn are going to come back for them eventually. And when they do, either he or Takashi will die, alongside one of their scrapped Black Lions, while the other is going to be forced to assist as a pilot through the rifts.

_ That can’t happen,  _ Shiro thinks.  _ We can’t let it.  _

But all too soon, he hears the distant thud of the cell block door opening, and footsteps heading down the hallways. He groans. Already? It’s hard to tell how much time had passed, but it can’t have been  _ that  _ long. 

“Takashi!” he hisses. “They’re coming.”

Prison must have also taught them both to sleep anywhere but do it  _ lightly,  _ because the moment he hears his name, Takashi’s eyes snap open and he’s already levering himself upright. “How long?” he asks softly.

“Not sure, but they’re coming fast,” Shiro says. He presses his face close to the wooden-barred window in their cell door, but it’s hard to get a decent angle to see outside. There’s two Vogn guards out there, he knows, but they must have gone up to greet the party coming in, because he doesn’t see them. 

Takashi grimaces as he hauls himself to his feet. His shoulder must still be bothering him, but he narrows his eyes as he regards the door anyway. “We’ll just have to rush it and take the risk. There’s no way we can help them get through those rifts.”

“Agreed,” Shiro says grimly. He’d rather live, but if it comes to it and it keeps these people contained, then he’s better dead. It sounds like they haven’t figured out how to get through the rifts on their own just yet, and if Black is the only thing that can get them through…

They just can’t let that happen. 

The footsteps get louder, and then one of the guards speaks up farther down the hallway. “What are—”

There’s a solid  _ thudding  _ noise, and a sharp yelp of surprise and pain that Shiro can very distantly feel. The second guard snaps, “Stop right—” but that’s as far as he manages to get before a familiar blaster noise cuts him off. A second blaster noise follows the first, and then two more  _ thuds  _ as the guards very clearly hit the ground.

A moment later, a very familiar face in a very unfamiliar white-colored helmet peers through at them from the other side, and grins. “Finally! You have  _ got  _ to stop doing that thing where you use the Black Lion’s wings and then disappear. Do you know how annoying that is? What is even the point of those things?”

Shiro stares in bewilderment, but Takashi pushes up next to him and grins back at the face in the window. “Hey, it’s not like I plan on doing it. And you took your sweet time getting here.” 

“Here I am saving you and you’re being all ungrateful,” the person on the other side—no doubt Takashi’s Ryou—says, with a mocking scowl. “See if I come break you out of prison  _ next  _ time.” 

“I hate to interrupt,” Shiro says, glancing back and forth between the two in confusion, “but you haven’t seen another person like you around, have you?”

The other-Ryou blinks at him for a moment, but then says much more normally, “Oh, hey. You must be the other Shiro, then. Don’t worry, he’s around—just checking for other soldiers.”

“Which there aren’t,” another voice says, and to Shiro’s immense relief, his own Ryou steps up next to this strange other one, peering through into the cell. He smiles in relief at Shiro. “We should be good for a little bit, anyway. Hello,” he adds, nodding to Takashi, who’s doing his own puzzled stare now.

Shiro can hardly blame him. They’d been hoping for a rescue, but even so, this is just  _ weird.  _

Still, it’s good to see his own clone made it here safely. “Ryou—”

“Yeah?” the white-helmeted clone asks, raising an eyebrow.

Shiro blinks. “Um.  _ Other  _ Ryou,” he says, nodding towards his own.

“I’m quiet, for the moment,” his says.

That’s all the more confusing. “You...just talked?”

“Oh my  _ god, _ ” the white-helmeted Ryou says, sounding positively delighted. Shiro’s not entirely sure he’s ever seen that expression on his face  _ or  _ his own Ryou’s, like Christmas has come early. “This is incredible. Please keep going.”

The dark-armored Ryou gives his counterpart a dirty look, and then says, “It was getting too confusing with both of us having the same name. So he gave me the nickname ‘Quiet,’ and now he’s going to be an actual two year old about it for the rest of the time we’re here.”

“You had a chance to change it!”

“It doesn’t matter. Or at least it wouldn’t if you didn’t keep making it a thing.”

“Okay,” Takashi interrupts, before it can go any farther, “So you’re ‘Quiet’ for now. We did the same thing—I’m going by Takashi for the moment, just to keep us apart.” 

The other-Ryou—who is now  _ just  _ Ryou, apparently—now looks as though both Christmas  _ and  _ his birthday have come simultaneously. “Is that so,  _ Takashi? _ ” he says, drawing out the name in a little sing-song voice. 

“Don’t get used to it. It’s not permanent.”

“Whatever you say,  _ Ta-ka-shiiiii. _ ” 

Shiro watches the entire baffling exchange for a moment before saying, “Look—now that we have our very strange introductions out of the way, is there any way for you to open this door?”

That sobers up Ryou, who nods. “Yeah. Right. Hold on, let me see if I can find a lock to break or something.” He starts looking over the door on the other side, frowning. 

“How are you two holding up?” his own Ryou, now dubbed ‘Quiet’ for some reason, asks. “Are you okay? We brought a first aid kit if you’re injured.”

“A little worse for wear, but everything is manageable,” Takashi says. “We can wait until we’re somewhere safe to do any triage.”

“If they have a first aid kit, you should at least take an anti-inflammatory like I suggested earlier, for your shoulder,” Shiro says. If they’re going to be breaking out, Takashi’s going to need his right arm to fight with. Any little bit helps.

Ryou’s investigation of the door stops, and his head pokes back up as he stares through the window. “What’s wrong with his shoulder?”

Takashi gives Shiro a sour look, but Shiro stares back, unrepentant. Cornered, Takashi sighs and says, “It may have gotten dislocated. For a little bit. Shiro helped me reset it.” 

“And you were just not gonna say anything?” Ryou says, scowling.

“No wonder you tried to check if I was hiding a concussion,” Quiet notes, tone mild, as he digs through the first aid bag.

“It’s a regular problem,” Ryou says, as he finally ducks down to attack the door problem with renewed vigor.

“It’s a relatable one. Managing Shiros is difficult in all realties, I guess.” 

“Where’s the lie?”

Shiro is a little insulted by the entire conversation. It’s reflected perfectly in Takashi’s face.

Quiet finally finds what he’s looking for, and shoves a small bottle of water and a pair of pills through the barred window. “Here, take them while Ryou’s breaking you out.” 

Takashi sighs, but accepts them, swallowing the pills and and half the water to chase them down. He hands the rest of the bottle to Shiro, who realizes only then just how thirsty he is, and he accepts the other half with a little relief. 

“Why did Ryou think you had a concussion?” he asks, when he finally finishes off the bottle, and hands it back through the bars to Quiet. With how obsessed with metal these people are, he’s not leaving any other kind of resource behind, not even plastic. 

Quiet tucks it away in the bag. “I didn’t actually have one. He thought I was Takashi.”

Shiro gives the dark version of the armor he’s currently wearing a pointed look, and raises an eyebrow. He can definitely guess how  _ that  _ happened, but he’s never really been okay with Quiet trying to play him again.

“Telling people you’re a clone straight off the bat is stupid,” Quiet says defensively. “I wasn’t sure what his intentions were. We worked it out.” 

“After he nearly ripped my arm off,” Ryou says, from somewhere out of sight at the bottom of the door. “But I forgive him, because it was a pretty cool move. You better watch out next time we spar,  _ Ta-ka-shiiiii. _ ”

Shiro never actually knew his own first name could be said so...gratingly before. 

Takashi looks ready to fire back, but Ryou interrupts before he can. “ _ Damn  _ it,” he says, as his face pops back into view. “There’s no lock or anything on this door to break. No hinges to remove. I can barely find the seams. How the hell did they get you in there to begin with?”

“They use a lot of weird quintessence magic,” Takashi says, frowning. “I never actually saw how they opened the doors, but I bet it’s like that.”

“We’ll have to break it down,” Ryou says. “There’s just no other way to get it open.” A dull  _ thud  _ on the other side indicates a very unsuccessful attempt to budge it even a little.

“They’re pretty solid,” Shiro warns. “We both tried on this side. And both of our arms are bound and banded with some kind of inhibitor bracelet, so we can’t help.”

Ryou grumbles, but Quiet looks thoughtful. “I’m thinking we’re past the point of subtlety now,” he says. “Since we already had to bust into the prison through a couple guards. They’ll notice soon.”

“Probably,” Ryou agrees. “And if we can’t get them out of this cell, we’re going to be swarming with enemies down here, and already conveniently in the prison block.”

“Not quite,” Quiet says. “I happen to have a very big key. It’s just...not very subtle. Shiro—you and Takashi better back up. We recovered your bayard. I’m gonna use it.”

It takes Shiro a moment to catch his meaning, but then his eyes go wide. “ _ Oh.  _ Yeah. That could work.” Turning, he grabs Takashi under the left arm, and hauls him to the back corner against the wall, as far from the door as they can get.

Takashi frowns. “What’s his bayard?”

“You’ll see in a sec,” Shiro says. “Better duck, just to be safe.” 

Outside, the two faces disappear from the window, and a moment later, Ryou’s voice echos into the room. “Holy  _ crap.  _ Why didn’t you tell me you could do  _ that? _ ”

“We only just got the bayard back. And like I said, it’s not subtle, and we were sneaking. Shiro, Takashi—firing in three, two, one—”

Shiro turns away and ducks, covering his face with his hand. Takashi mimics him, wincing slightly as it jars his shoulder a little.

Then the door blows in on itself. 

It smashes to the floor, sending wood splinters and dust scattering, and bounces once before clattering to a halt. The entire thing takes about five ticks and is  _ very  _ loud, but it’s also very successful, and there’s suddenly a ragged hole where the door had simply been ripped out of place.

“Holy  _ crap,”  _ Ryou repeats, from outside. It sounds like his day has been made. “That was  _ awesome. _ ” 

The dust settles as everything goes still and quiet again, and Shiro and Takashi both stand up straight again, heading for the door. Both Ryous are just poking their heads in. Ryou’s armor is almost entirely white; he sticks out quite impressively here. Quiet’s dark armor blends in better, but more notable is the enormous arm-mounted cannon currently wrapped around his forearm up to his elbow. It’s mostly black with white accents and outlines, and a few pale blue Altean glowing lights. The bayard grip is still barely visible in Quiet’s fist, just below the barrel of the cannon.

“Oh,” Takashi says. “ _ That’s  _ his bayard.” 

“Yup,” Shiro agrees, grinning a little. 

Quiet dismisses it back to its bayard shape and tucks it away in his thigh-holster as he glances over their bound hands. “Can you get those off?” he asks Ryou, glancing at his counterpart. He waves his Olkari arm, and adds, “I don’t cut anymore with this. I could try shooting them, but somebody’s liable to lose a hand.” And then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Again.”

That actually gets a grin or a snort from all three of the rest of them. Well, Shiro notes, at least they all share the same dark sense of humor. Nobody will yell at anyone for being inappropriate. 

“I’ve got it,” Ryou says, still smirking a little. He powers up his right hand, and to Shiro’s surprise, it glows Altean blue. Whatever this other clone is equipped with under his paladin armor, it’s neither Galran nor Olkari. Huh. 

But it certainly does the job. He’s able to cut the iron-like vines off of Takashi’s wrists, and then Shiro’s, with relative ease. The wooden inhibitor cuffs are a little trickier, but they don’t seem to interrupt Ryou’s arm at all as long as he’s not wearing them, and he’s able to carefully cut and crush each one until they’re free of them. 

“Much better,” Shiro says, relieved. He tests his control by powering his own Galra hand up again, and it jumps to life at once just like it always does. Whatever tampering the Vogn had done during that interrogation, it doesn’t seem to have affected his hand permanently. “Mine works fine. Yours?”

Takashi winces a little when he moves his right arm, but his arm also bursts to life after a moment. “Seems fine. They didn’t screw anything up when they tried to rip it off, at least.”

“They did  _ what? _ ” Ryou’s expression is an interesting mix of absolutely livid and completely horrified, but he steps up to Takashi to give him a more thorough once over. “You’d better point out the one that did it when we see’em next, ‘cause  _ I’m  _ going to rip  _ their  _ arms off. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Takashi says. “That was the worst of it, really.” Ryou must be satisfied with the answer, because he leans forward to give his predecessor a careful half-hug that doesn’t jar his right arm at all.

Watching that feels a little like intruding, so Shiro looks away to give them their moment, and gives Quiet a once-over of his own. “How are you holding up?” he asks softly. “Please tell me you got your meds.” He nods to the medkit bag now slung across Quiet’s back.

“No such luck. We grabbed this from their Black Lion.” He nods in the general direction of Takashi and Ryou. 

Shiro frowns at that. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Quiet says shortly. “Hard to gauge how much time passes here, but Ryou hasn’t noticed me doing anything weird, so I’m assuming I’m still in a safe time-frame.” 

“He might not know what to look for.”

“No, but he’s  _ definitely  _ the kind of person that’d point out the moment I do something stupid,” Quiet says dryly, “and he hasn’t called me out on anything notable yet. I think I’ll be fine until we get to our Lion.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Shiro says, but he can’t help but feel uneasy about it anyway. Quiet’s symptoms can be hard to spot at first, and who knows what this weird reality could do to him.

“I have to be. Shiro, we talked about this—I can’t be a liability in this situation,” Quiet hisses softly, leaning closer to keep the conversation a little more private. “All of us need to pitch in to get through this. I can hold out long enough to get to the Black Lion, and this is important.” 

“Fine,” Shiro says. “But let me know if anything’s wrong.  _ Please.  _ Takashi says the failsafe hasn’t happened in their reality—they won’t know what to do if something happens. At least give me enough warning to make sure I  _ can  _ get you to the Black Lion, if it comes to that.” 

“I promise I will,” Quiet says. 

That’s going to have to be enough, because a moment later, Ryou cuts in. “Hate to break up your conversation, but I’m guessing we’re gonna have a whole bunch of soldiers swarming us soon, and we probably don’t still want to be in the prison when that happens. Think it’s time to get moving.”

Shiro nods. “Let’s go,” he says, at nearly the same time as Takashi.

Both clones stop for a moment, blink, exchange glances, and then stare. After a moment, Quiet says, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to understand on an  _ entirely  _ new level why this freaked out everyone else on the team so much. That’s just...eerie.”

“Same,” Ryou agrees. “It’s really weird when they’re  _ exactly _ identical.” 

“We can’t help that we’re  _ actually  _ the same person,” Shiro says, mildly exasperated. 

“We’re not even going to be able to tell them apart when they put their helmets on,” Ryou says, shaking his head. He glances at Quiet. “Can you at least swap back to the other color? Otherwise this is going to get really confusing  _ really  _ fast.” 

“Probably a good idea,” Quiet admits. “Stealth’s out the window at this point.” He touches his Olkari arm to the ‘V’ on his chest, and the dark purple colorations ripple back into pale Olkari green again. “And speaking of their helmets…”

“Oh, right.” Ryou produces a version of the Black Paladin’s helmet from the collar storage of his armor, where the helmets can be compressed like the bayards, and hands it over to Takashi. “I’m mostly sure this one is yours.”

“Not really sure it matters in the long run,” Takashi says as he puts his on. Shiro accepts his own from Quiet, as well as the bayard. It feels  _ much  _ better to be properly armored again, even if he winces a little as he slides the helmet on over the cut on the side of his head.

“Everyone ready?” Takashi asks. The rest of them nod. 

“Great,” Ryou says. “Let’s bust our way out of here, then.” 

Quiet takes the lead, heading back down the hallway out of the prison block, and the others fall into step behind him. As he runs, he calls over his shoulder, “What’s our goal?”

“Do you know your way around this place?” Takashi asks. 

“Alarmingly well,” Quiet says. He winces. “I may have...kind of sort of downloaded a map of the place into my brain. It’s a long story.” 

Based on the way Ryou shakes his head, it certainly is, but now’s not the time for it. “Head for the Black Lion, then,” Shiro says. “Either one. We need to get to it before—”

But Ryou cuts him off. “No go. We tried that first. Our original plan was to bust you out with a Lion.”

Takashi frowns. “But how could you do that if…” He pauses, and regards Quiet curiously. “Wait.  _ You  _ can fly the Black Lion?”

Now there’s an odd question. Shiro raises an eyebrow at Takashi’s surprise, and then regards Ryou thoughtfully. Can he  _ not  _ fly Black? Well, that’s a question for later.

“I can,” Quiet confirms, “But not at the moment. These people did something to the Lions. They’re basically in a forced sleep. Neither one is going anywhere until we figure out what’s up with that.” 

 

Shiro frowns, and exchanges glances with Takashi. “The disruptor,” he realizes. “That’s what they were talking about.” 

“The what now?” Ryou asks.

“They kept talking about this thing called a ‘disruptor’ when they were interrogating us,” Takashi says grimly. “They want it ready for some kind of war effort—they’re trying to attack our realities. They wanted metal for it. That’s why they tried to tear my arm off.” He grimaces.

“So let’s break it and get the hell out of here,” Ryou says.

But Quiet shakes his head. “Not so easy. Do you know where it is? ‘Cause I don’t. And I think all of us are running on empty at this point. No way we can pull off a prolonged assault.” 

Ryou looks like he wants to argue, but a quick glance at Takashi seems to change his thoughts on the matter. “Fair enough,” he agrees. “Then what?”

“Get out,” Shiro says. “We find someplace safe, regroup, and form a plan.”

Takashi nods in agreement. “I think we all have important intel to share and now’s not the time for it.” He hesitates. “But they were going to scrap the Lions. Can they hold out that long?”

“Without us to interrogate, they wouldn’t dare try it just yet,” Shiro says, more confidently than he feels. “They’ll go slow. They want at least one Lion to break through the rift—they’ll make sure they can do that first. I think it’ll give us a little time at least.” 

He really hopes, anyway.

“Escape it is, then,” Quiet says. “Nearest exit is this way. Hurry.”

Quiet does indeed seem to know where he’s going, because he doesn’t hesitate at any of the hallway turns, and barely pauses before leading them through doors. They make decent time, but even so, they only make it about five hallways from the prison block before they hear the thundering of footsteps ahead of them, and five of the Vogn turn the corner just ahead. Each one carries one of those strange wooden firearms, and each one raises their weapons the moment they catch sight of the four paladins.

Except...the way they  _ level  _ those firearms is entirely uneven. All five point at either Shiro or Takashi, and to Shiro’s amazement, the soldiers’ eyes seem to slide right over Quiet and Ryou without noticing them. A moment later two of them seem to realize they’ve missed something and glance back, squinting at both clones, but it actually appears to take effort.

“What is that?” one murmurs, and Shiro can feel the Deep speech reflecting both bewilderment and alarm. Three of the guns hesitantly track back towards both Quiet and Ryou, but their aim wobbles with uncertainty. 

Their few ticks of hesitation cost them. The moment they freeze in the hallway, Ryou charges, summoning his shield. He smashes into the first of the guards, drawing a startled yelp both audibly and mentally from the Vogn and knocking him into the wall. Before that Vogn can recover Ryou spins, launching a powered-up right fist into a second’s head, sending that one stumbling into one of her companions. That soldier’s aim flies wide as she knocks into him, and his gun fires into the wall rather than at Takashi, where she’d originally been aiming.

For a moment Shiro is actually worried that Ryou will just continue to cannon through them—the advantage of surprise will only last so long. But Ryou abruptly ducks, at the exact moment Quiet steps forward, leveling his own powered Olkari fist at their opponents. Two sharp blasts, two quick flashes, and two of the soldiers drop. 

The entire maneuver between the two clones looks practiced and takes just a few ticks. In moments, they’ve reduced the five-on-four odds to three-on-four instead, and sowed complete chaos in the opposition. 

But the remaining three Vogn begin to recover after that, and losing two of their companions seems to bolster them. The one that Ryou had knocked into the wall recovers her firearm and leaps up, and the remaining two surge forward, leveling their weapons. Ryou rushes to continue the fight with the soldier he’d first attacked, and Quiet smoothly intercepts the second soldier, firing several blasts at the Vogn that drive him back.

But the third manages to slip past them both, raise his wooden rifle, and fire—directly at Shiro.

Shiro’s arm is already powered up, and he snaps it up defensively out of pure instinct. The Vogn blast slams into his glowing metal palm, and sparks fly as the energy deflects to either side of him. Even without touch sensations in the Galra prosthesis, he can feel the impact jar him all the way up to the remains of his right arm, and quintessence crackles up his forearm in a mix of blue and purple sparks. 

_ Those quintessences do not play well together, _ he notes, as the energy finally dissipates. Best not try  _ that  _ again. 

But the Vogn soldier looks just as surprised, and in the few startled ticks he tries to process, Takashi hits him hard from the side. His counterpart’s own prosthetic arm comes slamming down on the firearm in the Vogn’s hands, sending it smashing to the floor, and in a fluid follow-through his left fist swings around straight for the Vogn’s face. 

The Vogn soldier jerks back, caught off guard but not helpless. Takashi’s left fist misses hitting the opponent in the face, but his fist does graze the side of the soldier’s head, snapping their head back. One of the long, thin, orange lily-petals on this soldier catches on Takashi’s gauntlet, and it’s torn free as Shiro’s counterpart completes the swing.

The Vogn shrieks in surprise and pain—both audibly and mentally. The physical noise is loud, but the mental shriek of suffering is like a sucker punch to Shiro’s brain, and he sways a little on his feet. It feels like someone had just sliced off one of his fingers, but he  _ knows  _ he has them all. 

Takashi sways back in surprise, equally startled, eyes wide in alarm. The Vogn shrieks again, clawing painfully at his head, and then whirls in a pain-filled, furious rush on his attacker. Takashi doesn’t move, clearly still stunned still by the pain sensations from his opponent at such close proximity. 

Shiro curses and rushes forward.

The Vogn reaches for a strange wooden rod at his belt that begins sparking as he pulls it out, leveling it towards Takashi. Takashi begins shaking off his daze, raising his right arm defensively with a wince. The wooden rod comes around for a strike, and—

—and Shiro hits him from behind, ramming his Galra arm into and through the Vogn’s back. 

He goes for what would be a quick kill on most other lifeforms, partly out of mercy and partly out of necessity. If these things broadcast pain, even killing one Vogn poorly could be detrimental to any of the four Shiroganes, and they can’t afford to be stunned by that. For once, the plan actually works, and there’s only one startled moment of pain and surprise before the Deep speech cuts off permanently. 

Shiro grimaces as he lets the soldier drop, and stares at his hand. There’s a strange, sappy texture coating the gauntlet, but it doesn’t resemble or smell like blood at all, which is actually something of a relief. It means it’s something he can push to the back of his mind and process later, if ever. The substance bubbles and burns off fairly quickly as long as he keeps his arm active. 

He turns his attention from that to Takashi, who gives him a nod of thanks. “You okay?”

“That...Deep speech is going to take getting used to,” Takashi says, grimacing. He doesn’t mention his shoulder, although it’s obviously bothering him. He has the same tells that Shiro does, apparently.

But there’s no use drawing attention to that, so instead Shiro says, “Yeah. You want the bayard?” Maybe if he has another weapon to fight with, things will be a little easier for him.

Takashi only shakes his head. “The wings won’t do me much good here. Keep it or give it to Quiet.”

_ Wings? _ Despite the situation, Shiro can’t help but be intrigued by that. But now’s not the time to ask questions, so he lets it drop and keeps hold of the bayard for now.

The rest of the fighting is already over by then; Ryou and Quiet have each managed to bring down their own Vogn opponents. Both don’t look too bad off, fortunately, although they’re exchanging anxious words when Shiro and Takashi trot up to them.

“—make sense. They went  _ straight  _ after both Shiros,” Ryou says. “Where’s  _ their _ invisibility power?”

“It’s more like camouflage,” Quiet says, “and clearly, they don’t have it, which would explain how they got picked up and we didn’t.”

“But why the hell  _ not? _ ”

“There’s only one major difference between us and them,” Quiet points out. “However it works, it must have something to do with how we were made.”

“Great,” Ryou grouses. “That’s great. What good is camo if only  _ half  _ the team has it?”

“What’s going on?” Shiro asks, frowning. “Are you two okay?”

“Fine,” Quiet says. “But we should move, before more come. That fight wasn’t quiet.” Ryou snickers at the words, and Quiet scowls at him. “You’re insufferable. Now? Really?”

“Absolutely,” Ryou says, with surprising cheer. “We’re in a hostile environment in another reality, I’m making the best of a bad situation.”

“Moving,” Takashi prompts, giving Ryou a pointed look.

“This way,” Quiet says, grumbling.

They move on through another two hallways and down several ramps. Shiro doesn’t remember this route, but he trusts Quiet to not lead them astray, and they do seem to be avoiding most packs of Vogn. 

But inevitably their luck runs out, and this time when it does, it’s a lot worse than the last time. Ryou gestures them to stillness and silence with a quick wave of his arm, and it’s enough to let them hear the large number of heavy footfalls heading in their direction from behind. This time there’s a  _ lot  _ more than five, and based on the speed of those footfalls, they’re moving urgently. They must have found the mess he and the others left behind. There hadn’t been time to hide the bodies.

“That’s too many to take on,” Quiet hisses. 

“No choice,” Takashi says, already powering up his arm. Shiro has to agree there, and activates his own. It’s inevitable they’ll be caught; he’s at least going to go down fighting. 

But neither clone does the same. Instead, Ryou glances over at Quiet, and says, “ _ We  _ could hide. It works with the med bag if we keep it close. Think we could get it to work on  _ them? _ ”

“Worth trying,” Quiet says. “If it doesn’t we’re in for the same fight regardless. In here.” And he points at one of the open rooms.

“Are you kidding?” Takashi hisses. “If we go in there we’re trapped, there’s nowhere to—”

“No arguments,” Ryou says, grabbing his wrist—the left one, conscious even now of Takashi’s injury—and hauling him towards the door. “Just trust us.”

“Same with you,” Quiet says, terse, as he pushes Shiro for the door. “And power down the arms, both of you.  _ Now. _ ”

The last word is said with Shiro’s own authoritative, commanding tone. Quiet rarely uses that one unless he has to, or he’s taking command of other combat units, so it stands out enough to Shiro to make him listen. Takashi looks genuinely startled by the voice, and glances back at Quiet in confusion. But it works, and both of them shut down their right arms. 

Not that it makes Shiro feel any better about the situation. Both of their clones appear to have gone crazy, and now they don’t even have their weapons at the ready. Shiro has a feeling this isn’t going to end well. 

The feeling intensifies when Ryou and Quiet shove them into the farthest, darkest corner possible. Shiro’s forced uncomfortably against Takashi in the corner, trying hard to not crush into his counterpart’s right side too much. “This isn’t going to help,” he says, exasperated. “We’re still visible—”

“Shush. No time to explain,” Ryou says, slapping a hand over Shiro’s mouth long enough to quiet him. “No talking, no moving, do absolutely nothing until we say.” 

Shiro brushes Ryou’s hand away, but stops moving a moment later at Quiet’s warning look. And then, to his complete confusion, both of them turn around to face out towards the door, and just...stand there. In front of him and Takashi. 

It’s annoying, actually. Both of them back up close enough that Shiro and Takashi are pressed back into the wall. And since both of them are identical clones, they’re both also the same height, meaning Shiro can’t see around Quiet’s helmet to the door beyond. Which means he’s standing out in the open with at least a dozen enemies bearing down on them, without a single weapon at the ready, and he can’t even see the situation enough to be prepared.

He hates that feeling. He can all but  _ feel  _ that Takashi does too.

But they do as they were told, and stay still and silent. What other choice do they have? And to Shiro’s amazement, they  _ aren’t  _ caught. He can hear the Vogn guards blunder into the room, or rush past, and chatter quietly to each other mentally and verbally. He can feel their hurried searches in his head, but not their recognition or triumph. He hears several confirm the hallway is clear. And he hears the footsteps gradually fade away, until the hunting pack disappears. 

“I think we’re good,” Ryou says, after a moment. He and Quiet finally step away, letting Takashi and Shiro take a few steps forward out of the claustrophobic crush of the back corner, much to Shiro’s relief.

“What was  _ that? _ ” Takashi asks. His incredulity perfectly mimics Shiro’s. 

“Our secret clone power,” Ryou says, grinning a little. “We’re mostly invisible, as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”

“It sounds crazy, but it really works,” Quiet admits. “Their eyes go right over us. We blend in somehow. I wasn’t sure if it’d work with you guys, but I guess as long as we’re in front of you you, they can’t see you either.”

“I wonder why that happens?” Takashi wonders, frowning, as they make their way cautiously to the doors again and glance out. The way is clear, and all four of them slip out, following after Quiet as he takes the lead.

But Shiro frowns thoughtfully and thinks back to when he’d first been captured. He’d been disoriented and confused at the time, but the Vogn soldiers that had taken him had said something unusual. “ _ A strange quintessence _ ,” he repeats.

“Huh?”

“When I was first caught, one of the soldiers looked right at me and said, ‘a strange quintessence,’” Shiro clarifies. “That it didn’t belong. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

“Huh,” Takashi says, narrowing his eyes a little. “Now that you mention it, that sounds familiar. One of the soldiers that caught me said something similar.” 

“But ours isn’t strange?” Ryou says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not strange for wherever we are, at any rate,” Quiet says. “It’s obviously not the same as Shiro’s or Takashi’s—if it’s quintessence that’s the problem at all.”

“They seemed pretty reliant on it in every other way,” Shiro says, thinking back to the interrogation. “They use it to talk. Why wouldn’t they use it to see, too?” 

They pause and duck into another room as another group of Vogn rush past. This time, Takashi and Shiro are more familiar with the concept, and stay back as far as possible while Quiet and Ryou take up a defensive position in front of them. Like before, they aren’t found. If it  _ is  _ quintessence sight, Ryou and Quiet must neutralize whatever is so obvious and out of place about Shiro and Takashi enough to let them go unseen. 

“Whatever it is, it works, and I’m not complaining,” Ryou says, after the second Vogn team has moved on. “How much longer until we’re out of here?”

“Two more hallways,” Quiet says. “Almost there.” 

They make it just in time, and stepping through the doors to the outside world is a relief. The outdoors aren’t much of a comfort here—the ever-present dusk, two violent tears in the sky, and complete lack of stars are still disturbing on a number of levels. But at least Shiro doesn’t feel trapped anymore. 

They manage to cross to several organic storage containers barely in time to miss a Vogn patrol rounding the corner of the building. These ones don’t seem to be in as much of a rush; they must not know about the prison break yet. Shiro and Takashi squeeze into the shadows of the container with Quiet and Ryou braced on either side of them as safeguards, keeping watch.

“Now what?” Quiet asks. “We’re out, but where do we go from here?”

“What, that creepy map doesn’t give you the answers?” Ryou asks.

“No, because I didn’t ask it to,” Quiet says. “I thought we were going to be busting out with a Black Lion when I asked for information, not breaking out to find a safe place to hide. How do we even know what’s safe out here?”

“There,” Takashi says, pointing. “That part of the forest.”

Shiro glances over. The strange swaying forest he’d been marched through during his capture surrounds this whole complex. Most of it has the soft glowing polyps twinkling through the swaying branches in a poor imitation of stars, and it moves gently. The point Takashi indicates is pitch black, though, and oddly still. While that’s fairly normal for Shiro’s concept of what a forest should be, compared to the rest of the life in this strange riftworld, it looks dead.

“What happened there?” Ryou asks, frowning. 

“My guess is they stripped the place of resources,” Takashi says, gesturing to a few odd, completely organic vehicles scattered around the front of the forest. “Only for them it’s energy.” 

Shiro’s eyes widen in understanding. “If they’re that reliant on quintessence to interact with the world, a place completely stripped bare of it would be like pitch blackness,” he realizes. “It’s the equivalent of hiding in a cave with no lights.”

“But we’ll be able to see with our helmets,” Quiet says. “Works for me. I don’t have any better ideas.”

“Agreed,” Ryou says. “Okay, listen up you two. Quiet and I figured out how to get through this place already. But since your quintessence is apparently made of bright neon lights screaming ‘notice me,’ you’ll have to stick with us to get through it.” He explains how the two of them had managed to leapfrog through the area from cover to cover. They would need to keep an eye out for enemy soldiers, and freeze perfectly still to keep from drawing attention if they were caught in the open.

They’re able to pull off a modified version of the same tactic in pairs. Shiro sticks close to Quiet as they rush across the grounds, while Takashi and Ryou keep watch, and then they trade jobs. It’s frustratingly slow going, or at least it feels like it is, regardless of how time works in this place. And they’re nearly caught more than once, forcing both clones to rush to intercept before either version of Shiro is actually seen.  

But they do eventually make it to the darkened forest. It’s with a sense of triumph and relief that Shiro and Quiet finally make the last dash to the edge of the grounds to join Takashi and Ryou. They duck behind one of the enormous, darkened trees and wait, but there’s no movement, and nobody notices them. 

“It feels like we stick out here too much,” Takashi mutters. Shiro can’t help but agree—even in the darkness of the forest, the paladin armor’s strips of teal light illuminate them just barely, and all of them are wearing white to some degree. 

“For us,” Ryou says. “Not for them. And with me and Quiet on hand, they won’t see you at all.”

“But we should go farther in for now, either way,” Quiet says, gesturing farther back into the forest. “It’ll give us a chance to find a place to rest and to talk strategy.”

It’s a smart idea, so they trudge deeper into the forest. Shiro can see well enough, between the night-vision mode of his helmet and the slight illumination each of them provide. They’re able to travel without tripping over enormous roots or the strange, coral-like bushes that appear to be cropping up in this section of the forest more than the one he’d crashed in. 

Almost everything here appears slightly washed-out, like it’s dying or dead—as though draining the quintessence out of it drained its color and vibrancy as well. There’s not much movement around them anymore, other than the occasional wild critter; the forest no longer sways around them, and most of the twirling branches hang limp. Several of the trees have collapsed, and take longer to circle around, or have to be climbed over. 

It’s when they can no longer immediately see the blue quintessence lights of the facility that they finally come across a bit of good luck. Several of the strange, dead trees have collapsed against each other, creating an odd hollow. It creates several natural walls, and although it’s a bit of a squeeze to get in between two of the fallen trunks, there’s enough shelter to keep them well hidden until they’re ready to make their counter attack.

The four of them wearily make their way into their newfound shelter, which is—thankfully—devoid of anything that might want to have them for dinner. There’s smaller broken logs and debris inside the hollow, and each of them settle down to sit. Shiro can tell all of them are absolutely exhausted. However long they’ve been here, it’s definitely been too long to constantly stay active.

“Triage first,” Quiet says, after sitting for a moment. “Then strategy.”

“Agreed,” Ryou says. “Pass me the bag, I want to take a look at Takashi’s shoulder.”

“It’s  _ fine,”  _ Takashi promises. “You want to talk triage—why didn’t you deal with that burn on your face?”

Ryou blinks. “I forgot I had it,” he says, after a moment, as if this is a perfectly acceptable excuse.

“What about you?” Takashi says, glancing at Quiet. “You could see it the whole time.”

Quiet stares back, and then says in a near-perfect imitation of Ryou’s casual response, “He said he’d had worse. It didn’t seem like a problem.”

“We bonded over it,” Ryou agrees. 

Shiro groans. He’s beginning to wonder if these two interacting was perhaps the  _ best  _ thing to have happened. 

The clones are relentless in their pursuit of proper triage, though, and both of them seem perfectly willing to tag team and back the other up on the subject. In no time at all Takashi has been given a thorough once over, and Shiro finds himself bullied into removing his helmet long enough for his head injury to be examined. He could probably take on Quiet solo on that, but Ryou makes himself absolutely impossible to ignore, and in the end it’s easier to just relent. Turning the tables afterwards just doesn’t feel as rewarding when Ryou allows them to look at the burn on his face, only to discover it really isn’t as bad as it looks after all. 

“Anyone else hiding anything at all we need to know about?” Ryou finally asks, once his own triage is over.

Shiro and his counterpart both shake their heads, and then glance at Quiet, the only one who hadn’t been forced to submit to an examination. Quiet merely raises his hands placatingly. “I didn’t get hurt at all. I’m fine.”

“He really didn’t, actually,” Ryou confirms, when Shiro gives him a dubious glance. “A little groggy when he first woke up, but who wasn’t?”

“I shoot things from far away,” Quiet says. “I don’t have to get up close and personal to punch stuff like the rest of you.” 

Which is true enough on the purely combative side of things, Shiro supposes. He can feel that time bomb ticking down anyway, though, and bites his tongue to keep his thoughts to himself. Quiet’s limitations aren’t in combat, but if this goes on too long he’ll be the one in the most danger.

They have to get out of here before that happens.

“If we’re all set on treatment, then I think it’s time to start trading information,” Shiro says. “We learned a lot of things about what the Vogn are up to. There’s a long fight ahead of us, and we need a plan.” 

And he’s pretty sure they don’t have much time left to figure it all out.


	6. Ryou

Ryou leans back on his palms and closes his eyes as he listens.   The past varga has been spent catching each other up on the basics of their experiences over the past however long, for all the good it's done them all.  The information they have is still disappointingly bare. These Vogn plan to go through the rift with their disrupter and their army. Considering what those machines did to both Black Lions, it would have a catastrophic effect on the Castle of Lions, which no doubt is looking for them on the other side.  One Lion will be used for breaking through the rift more easily, and the other will be turned into scrap metal to finish their device.

All bad.  All very bad.

"Well," Quiet says, "We've bought ourselves some time then.  They don't have any of the Black Lion's pilots. Even if they can get their machine done in a 'milliflare', they can't go through the rift unless they get one of you back."

Shiro frowns.  "They had ways of measuring and controlling the rift before we arrived.  They were actively trying to keep it closed until they were ready. Going through was always part of their plan.  The Black Lion seemed like it would make it easier."

"It may take them longer, especially with the chaos we created, but I don't think we can rely on it."  Takashi leans back against a stone, casting glances down into the dark patch of woods around him. He’s repeated the gesture every few moments, clearly not trusting the peace to last.

Sitting around in the open feels ridiculous enough to Ryou, who’s had time to get used to being functionally invisible.  The fallen branches overhead give the illusion of cover, but it’s not much given their partly white uniforms. It has to be worse for their Shiros, who haven’t had time to properly experience their camouflage.  

They can't rely on this long.  All it would take would be for one of the patrols from before to take a lucky turn and get close enough to spot them.  Between the four of them, they can take on a good number of Vogn, but the injuries will start to build up soon. Without medical supplies or time to heal, that's asking for trouble.

Especially since they have two big time bombs:  The first being the Vogn attacking one of their realities.  The second being whatever the heck is up with Quiet.

Failsafe.

Ryou resists a shudder.

"Was the disruptor near the Lions?" Takashi asks, looking between both clones.  "If it's in the underground hangar with one of them, then we can get to a Lion quickly and do some damage."

A smile curls up Ryou's lips, already imagining how much destruction a Lion could cause.  But it quickly falls away. "How quickly did Black start reacting once we got here?"

Shiro turns to him, brow furrowed.  "Our Lion, you mean?"

"In general.  Everybody." Ryou flaps a hand around the general group, then drops it as he realizes the problem.  "Ah, right. Hi, I'm not the Black Paladin. Can we move on now?"

Like Quiet before him, Shiro's face twists in confusion, then falls.  "Oh. Yes, you said. Then you wouldn't know."

Quiet's brows raise.  "He's a Yellow Paladin," he says flatly.

Yeah, he is, but Ryou doesn't know why Quiet says it like that.  But Shiro nods slowly, then more confidently, so apparently it means something.

Cool.  Great. Whatever works for them.

"Answer?"  Ryou says. He pokes his own Shiro on the good shoulder.   _ "Ta-ka-shi?" _

The peevish look he gets is immensely satisfying.  Takashi rolls his eyes, but he's given up on fighting it already.  Which is either a sign that he's learning or his shoulder is bothering him.  "Pretty fast. Within ticks for us. You all, too?"

"About that," Quiet says.  "It didn't happen all at once, though."  He swallows, suddenly uncomfortable. "Like the Lion was falling asleep."

"Or being drugged," Takashi agrees, just as grim.

Ryou nods.  "Okay, but they didn't know we were coming.  They were surprised when we landed. It wasn't like they intentionally left the rift open to bring in metal or whatever else they want."  He sat up straighter. "So that means whatever the disruptor machines are, they're not a point-and-shoot type weapon. They don't even need to be aimed.  It's an area of effect."

Shiro closes his eyes.  "Which means it has a wide range, to catch us in the area.  The disruptor could be anywhere in the compound."

"Bing bing bing."

"But Quiet can get a map of the place, right?"  Takashi turns to the other clone and nods to him.  "We should be able to find it."

Quiet shakes his head apologetically.  "The maps don't quite work like that. You need to think of what you need in particular, and you need to know the energy signature of it.  I was able to find the Lions and you two that way, but I don't know what the disruptor feels like. I’ll try, but it might not work."

Silence hangs over their little group as they all trying to figure out a way around that.  Ryou taps the heel of his boot against the hard stone, clicking like he would with the end of a pen, until Quiet reaches over and firmly holds his foot down.

"Oh, was I not being Quiet enough for you?" Ryou drawls.

Quiet's fingers tighten warningly around his ankle.  "Will you eventually get tired of beating that dead horse?"

"Not yet."

Looking up, Quiet gives Takashi a desperate look, as if telling him to control his child.

Takashi bites his bottom lip, looking amused but like he's trying to hide it. "Sorry.  If you discover the key to shutting Ryou up, I'd love to hear it, too."

Ryou beams back at him, pleased Takashi hadn't taken their side (childish as that is).  "Okay, what about when you collapsed earlier, Quiet? Were you able to feel the disruptor's energy then?"

Immediately, Shiro's mildly confused expression snaps into concern.  "You collapsed? When was this?"

Quiet shoots Ryou a dark look, as if Ryou had tattled on something, then holds up both his hands.  "I didn't collapse. At least, not the way it sounds. It was in the Black Lion. I was connecting to the astral plane.  These two don't do that."

"Oh."  Shiro stays tense for a moment, then relaxes.  His eyes continue to dart over Quiet, clearly looking for signs of injury or illness.

For the failsafe.

This would be a great time to ask about that, but Ryou can't bring himself to open his mouth.  Haggar had installed some sort of genetic trigger, designed to make her clones desperately ill after a certain amount of time.  A time that Ryou has apparently passed with no issues.

Does he not have it?  Or is it just malfunctioning, like so much of the rest of him?  

There's not a lot of Takashi's very brief Garrison unit on explosives that Ryou remembers.  It hadn't been anything in depth, instead just a basic safety course if anyone was in proximity to anything about to blow.  Most of that had been useless to Takashi in the arena.

But Ryou still remembers one rule: the most dangerous explosive is one that's primed to go off, but the trigger fails.

It's not a comparison he much likes.

Clearing his throat, Ryou waggles his fingers in a sarcastic wave to get them focusing.  "Did you feel anything?"

Quiet closes his eyes, clearly thinking back.  "It was like the Lions were covered in some kind of web.  They felt tired. I don't know if that's how the machine feels, or just how the Lions experience being shut down."

"It's at least a place to start," Shiro says.  "If not, we can use you two to sneak around and watch their traffic.  See if you can spot any particular areas with a lot of workers, particularly scientists."

"Excuse me, but can we back up?  What's this about webbing on the Lions and collapsing?"  Takashi asks, raising one finger like a tentative child in class.

Honestly, Ryou would like the in depth answer to this one.  He tucks his legs under him like it's story time and turns to face the other two.

Quiet tilts his head back, his eyes falling closed.  "As I said to Ryou before, it's related to where you fought Zarkon while you were bonding with Black.  Do you remember that plane?"

"I do," Takashi replies slowly.  "I thought it was just a manifestation of the bond, or something similar.  A mental space for us to fight."

"That's not wrong, necessarily," Shiro says.  He takes advantage of Quiet's closed eyes to give him another glance, this one nostalgic.  "I don't know that we have a good explanation of what it is, metaphysically. Just that we can use it to communicate with the Black Lion, when needed.  And also each other." 

Huh.  Because they can both be in there at once?  Weird.

Ryou glances at Takashi, who shakes his head back.  So he's never done anything with it. "Well, your Lion can do it too," Ryou says.  "Cause Quiet did it to yours. And when they do it, they go limp. Gave me a heart attack, since I didn't get a damn word of warning."

A hint of a smile crosses Quiet's face.  "Sorry about that."

"I don't think you're all that sorry, honestly."

"I'm as sorry as you are for the Quiet jokes."

Touche. 

Ryou flaps a hand.  "Well, that sensation is good enough for now, yeah?  You okay doing round two with those things?"

"I don't think I have a choice," Quiet says.  "If it's between using the computer again and letting them into our universes, I know which I pick."

A smile flashes over Takashi's face, then falls away.  He pushes himself off the rock, head held higher. "Well, unless we get very lucky and the machine is close to the Lions, then our best plan is to split up again.  With our helmets, we can communicate anywhere in the complex, so that should help as well. One team gets the machine, the other gets to the Lions."

Shiro's shoulders tense, but he nods.  "We should stick together until Quiet gets to a terminal, so we all know where to go.  But yes, at that point it would be best. One clone to each group, so we can make use of your invisibility.  By universes, then?"

"Negative."  Quiet stretches his legs out in front of him, grunting softly.  The effect of his minty-green armor against Shiro's is a striking contrast, and something about that makes Ryou feel better.  "We can't be sure we can access one Lion or the other. To be safe, we should have one pilot for each. Takashi can fly his own, but Ryou can't fly either.  I might be able to convince their Lion to listen to me on the astral plane, but better to have her actual paladin."

Takashi knocks his arm to Ryou's, gentler than he normally would because of his shoulder.  "Ryou should be on the machine team anyway. He's got the best chance of actually doing something about it."

Looking between them, Quiet raises one eyebrow.  "I don't see how him punching it would be better than any of us.  Admittedly, he might enjoy it more."

Grinning back, Ryou mimes boxing in the air.  "Probably. But he means I can take it apart best."  He freezes, then drops his arms and falls back against the stone.  "Ugh, but I didn't bring my tool kit when we left. It's in Yellow."

"Well, your arm will probably get through it just fine."  Takashi pats him on the shoulder, all sarcastic consolation. 

Shiro clears his throat.  "Be careful of that. When they were firing on us before, I noticed their quintessence plays badly with the arm.  At least, it does with the Galra one. I doubt the Altean one will enjoy it any more."

"Don't stick my finger in a socket."  Ryou gives him a thumbs up without getting up.  "Got it."

A head appears over Ryou's.  Quiet frowns down at him, forehead crumpled.  Ryou's only seen Shiro's face look like that when dealing with Slav, which is... damn.  Harsh.

"You can take the machine apart?" Quiet repeats back.  "You have experience with devices like these?"

Ryou jerks like he's about to sit up fast, which makes Quiet duck out of the way to avoid getting accidentally headbutted.  Then he pushes himself up calmly. "This one in particular? No. But I've done a lot of work with our resident nerds, and especially Coran."

_ "How?" _

Staring at Quiet, Ryou shrugs.  "By... talking to them?"

There’s no response.  Quiet closes his mouth and stares at Ryou like he’s trying to see into his skull.  Then he looks away.

Confused, Ryou looks to Shiro, hoping for some kind of explanation.  But he’s looking at Quiet instead, his shoulders slumped.

Well, whatever.

Takashi clears his throat, drawing the focus back to the conversation.  "So myself and Quiet go to the Lions, and Shiro and Ryou deal with the machine.  Once that's down, we'll take the Lions and get you out, do some damage to make sure they can't come after us, then leave.  Is that the plan?"

As far as outlines go, it's a little threadbare.  But it's not like they can prepare for more, so it'll have to do.  Ryou catches Shiro's eye and gives him a thumbs up, and get a surprised-looking smile in return.  "Good for me."

"I can work with that.  In the morning?" Quiet straights up, back to that politely neutral tone.  His whole affect is Shiro with the personality stripped out, and a new spike of irritation drives into Ryou.  Why does he  _ do _ that?  He'll say something or get a tone for a couple of doboshes at a time, and then it's like the only difference between this Shiro and Ryou is the uniform color and arm. 

The very thought makes the hairs on Ryou's arm stand up.

Shiro snorts.  "For a certain definition of morning.  We have no idea how long that will take."

"We need to sleep," Takashi points out.  "I'm the only one who's gotten any rest at all since regaining consciousness, and that was a doze as best.  We can't afford to charge in and fail because we weren't rested."

"Aww, but Takashi," Ryou says, delighting in drawing out the final syllable.  "Charging in is what I do."

"You'll manage."

Ryou grins, not even bothering to play at a pout.  He's just so damn  _ glad _ to have Takashi back.  Between waking up alone, getting fooled by a double, and finding his brother's arm had been nearly ripped off, it's been a long day.  No matter what, they're better together.

Turning to face them properly, Shiro folds his hands in his lap.  "We don't know how much time we'll have in the morning. So if there's any information we need to exchange, we should do so now.  When we're the in Lions, we'll try to send some more files, but we might not have a chance. Better to say what we can while we have the opportunity."

That's a good point.  Ryou swallows hard and pulls his legs up to his chest.  "Yeah, that's probably for the best." He knows what they need to talk about, but hell if he's going to be the one to bring it up.

"I think we both have information to share, yes," Takashi agrees, his voice more steady.  He rests his hand on Ryou's shoulder, not bothering to disguise his concern. From the strength of his grip, some of the comfort is for him, too.  "We've had some alarming run-ins with Haggar's technology and our arms. It's something you'll need to watch out for, Shiro, though I doubt it would be a problem for Quiet's arm."

Oh, this conversation gets better and better.

Shiro's eyes widen.  "Ah, yes. That would be wise to share.  Major Galra base locations as well. Traps we've run into.  It'd be interesting to cross compare." But his gaze locks on Takashi's, and his expression melts into empathy.  "But we should discuss the failsafe first."

Tightening his grip on his arm, Ryou stares at Shiro like he's about to list off his death sentence.

But then a new hand lands on his elbow.  Ryou starts, not expecting the touch, and Quiet yanks away before Ryou can take an instinctive swing.  "It's more important that Takashi hears these. When they happen to you, Ryou, you won't be able to recognize them."

Stomach dropping, Ryou stares at him.  "Oh. Even with the new arm?"

"What does your arm have to do with it?" Quiet asks, brow furrowed.  "This is genetics."

Oh.  Ryou swallows back against bile.  

Aware he'd hit some kind of nerve, Quiet looks over his face, then drops his hand into his own lap.  "Regardless, there are some... personal details that would best be shared one-on-one. Now might be a good time."

Great, when it was both personal and medical, that translated to 'really goddamn gross'.  This was going to be so fun. But better to talk about that without having to look Takashi or Shiro in the eye, so Ryou nods.  "Yeah, okay. Um, be back in a bit." He pushes himself to his feet, then absently offers Quiet a hand up, which he takes.

Shiro looks between them both, openly confused.  Clearly, he's not sure what kind of 'personal' information they might want to share.  But he finally nods to them, apparently trusting that Quiet has a good reason. "Don't go far."

Quiet goes very still, and Ryou has the sudden realization he's trying not to roll his eyes.  "We won't. Yell if you need us." Then he nods to the side and starts to walk off.

Ryou trots to keep up, which isn't necessary but feels appropriate.  "You know, if I'm going to lose control of my bowels and then forget you told me about it, I'd kind of prefer not to know in the first place."

Rather than answer, Quiet gestures him further into the dark.  It isn't until they're nearly 100 feet from the others that he stops.  "I needed a good excuse to get you away. It was just good timing. I'll tell you a general version of everything he's going to tell Takashi so you won't be behind."

Wait, he'd been manipulating them?  Ryou perks, instantly more interested in the conversation.  He leans back on his heels, grinning. "Okay, I’m listening."

"This might bring back bad memories for you, so I’m sorry.  But... does the name Terkon mean anything to you?"

The amusement and energy drains out of Ryou.  

His fingers curl into tight fists by his side.  He can hear the sound of that energy whip, see that vicious, smug grin, remember the burning, helpless anger as his plan resulted in the deaths of those who had believed in him.

(Not his.  Shiro's. Takashi's.  Not Ryou.)

"Yeah," Ryou says, voice tight.  "I know him."

Quiet's eyes go wide.  "Does Takashi remember?"

"No.  Thank fuck, no.  If I get my way, he never will."

Slowly, Quiet meets his eyes.  "Good. At least we’re in agreement there."

They have a lot in common, the two of them.  That's the nature of alternate universes. They're so much the same that the differences needle under Ryou's skin.  He doesn't understand why this version of him is so different, why he's more like Takashi than his supposed counterpart.  They don't seem to click, their personalities clashing in awkward ways.

But in this moment, they understand each other perfectly.

"You've run into him already, then," Quiet says, satisfied and dark.

...Or maybe not.

Ryou clenches his teeth hard, as a new, poisonous fury crawls up his throat.  "You've seen him again? He's still alive?"

"Not in my universe. Not anymore."  Quiet's vicious pride gives way into confusion.  "You haven't? How do you remember, then?"

"I remember everything."  Ryou gestures with his Altean arm, and stills when Quiet still looks confused.  "That's not how...? Takashi's arm recorded everything as soon as it was attached, including anything that he remembered.  I have perfect recall of all of that. The old arm suppressed anything I wasn't supposed to know, like the memories of his imprisonment, along with any thoughts at all related to clones, holes in my memories, or what was weird about my story.  I got headaches and heard static until I thought about something else. Took about three weeks for the team to figure out something was up."

Through the whole story, Quiet's eyes go wider.  He starts to shake his head and run his fingers through his hair.  "You... how... how did that-"

"How did I pass?" Ryou asks, voice utterly flat.

"Yes!"  Quiet winces and jerks himself back.  He looks down at his feet, shoulders stiff.  "I'm sorry. I just—I don't understand. When it was just your taste I thought you must have just slipped through somehow.  But that patch job on your memories means..."

A dark, bitter smile flashes over Ryou's face.  "It was deliberate? Yeah, I figured that. Haggar sent out a broken clone on purpose. I wasn't supposed to survive."

Quiet doesn't look up, just flinches again.  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said."

"Nah, nah.  Something's bothering you about it. Say it."  Ryou steps closer, purposefully looming into Quiet's personal space.  "Let's have it out,  _ brother.   _ Why's that freaking you out?"

"They died!"  Quiet places a deliberate hand on Ryou's chest and pushes him back a step, glaring right back.  His lips draw back in the hint of a snarl as he meets Ryou's eyes dead on. "So many others died for less.  What makes  _ you _ special?"

Ryou stills, his own heart stopping.  "Others?"

This time, it's Quiet who pauses.  "You don't-" His expression closes off, all that life falling back into the blank Shiro-face.  "You don't remember. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

Oh, come  _ on. _  Ryou grabs him by either arm.  "Stop that! We were just finally actually  _ talking.   _ There were others?  Did any of them live?"

Quiet shakes his head.  "I don’t know, and I won't talk about this to you."

"Who else are you going to?"

"No one."  The words drip with bitterness.  "I thought you would understand, but you won't.  I won't tell you, the same way I know you don't tell Takashi about his time in the arena."  Quiet meets Ryou's gaze challengingly, even as he shrugs off his grip.

Direct hit.  Ryou lets go and steps back, his stomach churning.  He looks Quiet up and down, taking in the exhausted curve of his spine and the slump of his shoulders.

"You're right.  I wouldn't. So I won't press."   He swallows hard. "I would listen, if you want to talk."

"There's no point.  It'll only hurt you.  I'm not going to do that just so I can talk about it.  It's not worth it." Quiet crosses his arms over his chest, closing himself off.  Self-comfort, the kind he'll allow himself.

For the second time in as many doboshes, Ryou fully understands Quiet.  He might not have those memories, but he understands the way they can churn and eat inside with no outlet.  And he gets looking at his alternate universe counterpart and thinking someone will finally understand, and then they're so different.

Ryou looks away this time.  Guilt squeezes his heart. He hasn’t been making this easy from the beginning, so no wonder Quiet got sick of him so fast.  "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was bringing up bad memories. I shouldn't have gotten in your face like that."

"I'm sorry too.  It's clear I'm not what you expected, either."  Quiet finally looks up through his bangs, a bitter curl to his lips.  "I don't know what I managed to do to annoy you so quickly."

Ouch.  Yeah. That couldn't have looked great from his end.  Ryou rubs the bridge of his nose, still not daring to look up.  "I just thought... I dunno, you're a clone named Ryou. I thought you would get it.  I thought maybe you'd be like me."

A bark of laughter escapes Quiet.  "I'm really, really not. Sorry to disappoint you."  He gestures jerkily toward Ryou. "I don't know how you're... any of you.  You're so different. You're so  _ you.   _ Your look, your speech, your actions.  Your Lion! It's all just  _ Ryou, _ and I don't have any of that.  Is it because you're made differently?  I'm so uncomfortable when I try to act differently. It's not  _ me. _  But I'm not him anymore, and I don't understand how you made that transition faster than I did, when you didn't even have the failsafe to change you."

"It's fake."

Quiet goes still.  Slowly, his head tracks up.  "Excuse me."

Ryou shrugs back.  "It's fake. Or it was for a long time."  He leans back against one of the dark outcroppings of rock, his arms crossed.  He finally meets Quiet's gaze again, his own blank. 

"They way the team found out for me was... not graceful.  Feelings were hurt. I was told..." His throat tightens, forcing Ryou to pause or else let his voice crack.  "I was told I had to be someone else. I wasn't allowed to take Shiro's things, or his place on the team, or his relationships.  If I tried, I'd be kicked out. So I looked at myself and decided if I could never be Black Paladin, why act like one? Why spend so much of my time hiding and biting back jokes?  I cut away those parts of me, walked away, and faked the rest. Tried music that Takashi hates. Forced myself into a new job, even if it wasn’t one I wanted. Figured out how I could be friends with my family in new ways.  It was that or leave them, and I had nowhere else to go."

"Oh.  That’s- That must have been difficult."  Quiet takes a deep breath, then lets it out.  "And that... worked? You just pretend to be a different person until you were?"

"Like I said, my reveal wasn’t graceful.  Besides, who's to say I am different?" Ryou stares up at the starless sky.  "Maybe I just got good at lying to myself."

Quiet tilts his head.  Then he reaches out and punches Ryou on the arm, surprisingly hard.  "Oh, don't even try that. You're a paladin of an entirely different Lion.  Don't pretend you're not different."

Rubbing his arm, Ryou sets his jaw mulishly.  "Ow. Jeez."

"You're fine.  I hit the armor, you won't even feel it in a few ticks."  Quiet moves to lean on the rock next to him, arms crossing in an identical pose.  From how he’s looking into the forest rather than at Ryou, that isn't intentional.  "I try other things. I try to make new relationships. But none of it changes who I am in my head.  Taking on the new name and learning to cook are as far as I've gotten in all this time."

"That and the cool Altean fighting.  And getting used to a firearm." Ryou looks over at him.  "Honestly? It's probably another way I'm broken. I'm a really shitty clone.  My memories are screwed, my taste is screwed, and my failsafe is either screwed or going to pop at the worst possible moment.  So it's harder for you. But give yourself credit."

Quiet inclines his head.  "I suppose that’s true. My role on the team for a long time was ‘temporary Shiro,’ so maybe I just didn’t have as many chances to diverge.  He was gone for far longer than in your universe, it seems, and even after we got him back he had to recover. As far as anyone outside the team knew, I was still Shiro that whole time."

Oh, yikes.  Ryou shivers and curls in on himself, stomach rolling at just the thought.  "That's awful. That's really sick."

"It was necessary.  And I don't mind, not at all.  It's been useful to confuse people since then."  Quiet looks him over. "You call him your twin. You've never pulled twin shenanigans?"

"Never," Ryou replies vehemently. The Voltron show had been the closest, but he wouldn’t count that.  He wasn’t being Takashi, he was being ‘Shiro the Hero.’

Shrugging, Quiet waves that off.  "Well, it’s never bothered me. I like having a use.  And, ironically, I get a unique place on the team for it."

That's fair enough, even if the thought makes Ryou want to be physically sick.  That says more about him than about Quiet, though. "And, hey."

Then he punches Quiet on the arm, just as hard as he'd been hit before.

Gripping his bicep, Quiet scowls back.  "I suppose that's your version of fair play?"

"Yup," Ryou says.  "And 'cause you're moping too.  If Yellow proves I'm different than Takashi, then your bayard proves you're different from Shiro.  I’m assuming his isn’t the rad cannon."

That makes Quiet still.  "Oh."

Ryou makes a show of settling back against the rock, snuggling in smugly.  "Mmhmm."

"Did you fake being so obnoxious, as well?"

"Nope, that came naturally."  Ryou grins at him, open and easy.  He elbows Quiet, much more gently than before.  "But, for real, you want my advice? Find unique experiences.  Do stuff Shiro's never done. Then it doesn't matter what his reaction would have been.  That's how  _ you _ are."

A small smile tugs up Quiet's lips.  "I'll keep that in mind." He hesitates, then elbows Ryou back.

Laughing, Ryou lets his head back.  He cuts the noise off quickly, aware that patrols could be around and hear him, even if they couldn't see.  "We got distracted. Terkon. Where's the son of a bitch so I can get the pleasure of killing him too?"

Straightening up, Quiet rattles off the details of the mission, which Ryou commits to memory.  "Be careful. The moment he saw Shiro in our reality, he was gunning for him. The fact that he picked the wrong one worked in my favor, but if the one in your reality catches sight of Takashi...well. You're gonna want to make sure he doesn't."

"Gotcha.  Thanks for the warning."  Quiet must have pretended to be Shiro to confuse him, then.  If there’s one thing worth pretending to be Takashi, it’s this.

Ryou works his prosthetic fingers, already anticipating getting to sink them into the bastard's guts.  Between the two of them, Takashi can be the noble Black Paladin. Ryou will take the opportunity to get some cosmic justice.

Quiet nods, clearly satisfied with the answer.  "We should go back soon we can all rest. Ready to hear the failsafe symptoms now?"

Ugh.  Ryou swallows and nods.  "Yeah, I should know. Lay it on me."

"The early stages start like dementia," Quiet says, clipped and clinical.  He speaks like he's reading off a list in front of him. "Becoming increasingly forgetful and clumsy.  Periods of distraction become more common. I would snap back into the moment and have no idea who, what, where, or when I was.  Wandering off becomes a problem, until going off ship isn't feasible. The clumsiness graduates to an utter lack of coordination, and then muscle weakness.  Over a period of weeks, memories fade completely, until it's difficult to recognize anyone or hold a conversation. The physical body begins to shut down, muscles too degraded to move, until finally the organs begin to fail."  

Ryou stares at Quiet, his stomach falling to his feet.

That's his worst nightmare, aside from a repeat of his attempt at fratricide.  It's a slow erosion of everything that makes Ryou himself, and makes him an utter burden on everyone around him.

And Quiet survived that.  Barely, from the sounds of it.

"I kind of want to hug you, right now," Ryou says.

Quiet tenses.  "If you have to, then I guess you can."

Well, that's a glowing endorsement.  Still, Ryou steps in closer and pulls Quiet into a loose, one-armed hug.  "That's awful. Seriously  _ awful. _  I'm sorry you went through that."

At first, Quiet stays tense.  Then he slowly unwinds. "It's in the past.  And if I can spare you going through it too, I'll be glad."

Nodding, Ryou gives him one more squeeze, then releases the poor guy.  "We'll see when I get home and we can check on it. In the meantime, you're right, we should head back."

The pair of them trudge back through the darkness.  It's easy enough to find their Shiros. Just follow the glow and listen to the voices.

"-had a lot of time to think about it over the next few weeks while I recovered," one of them says, wearing a rueful smile.

The other winces and nods.  "That's plenty of time for introspection, true.  Though it sounds almost as bad as the cage."

"They both have their pros and cons."

The second Shiro nods, then spots the returning clones.  His eyes immediately snap onto Ryou, worry overtaking his expression.  "Hey. You guys talk through everything you needed to?"

Ryou's lips quirk up as he nudges Quiet.  "Yeah, that's one way of putting it." He sits down comfortably next to Takashi.  His brother immediately scoots in closer, so they're barely inches apart.

Clearly, talking about the failsafe thing has made him nervous.  Ryou knocks their shoulders together fondly, trying to reassure him without words that he's okay.  As far as he can tell, he's never had the problems Quiet described. If he ever does, he's confident the team will notice and they'll be able to fix it.

Across from them, Shiro's eyes follow Quiet, stiff like he's holding himself back.  His posture is hunched, like he was exhausted between when Quiet and walked away and when he came back.  The memories of the failsafe were probably not fun for him, either.

"Are you talking about the dream cage?" Quiet asks, settling down as well.

Shiro presses his lips thin.  "Yes. They haven't run into anything like it, and I figured it was fair warning."

Brows up, Quiet turns to look at Takashi.  "You weren't taken by the Galra again?"

_ What _ had happened?  Jeez. Ryou thought his universe had problems.  

"No.  After the fight with Zarkon, the extra energy and the use of the wings essentially slingshotted me across the universe."  Takashi shrugs one shoulder, finally looking away from Ryou and back at Shiro. "I ended up getting picked up by the rebels."

"Lucky," Quiet says.

"Extremely."  Takashi gives a bland smile.  "Not quite as ludicrous as it sounds, though.  I ended up on a planet with a meteor made of the same material as Voltron, though much smaller.  The radiation it put off was a beacon to Black's energy, and it scrambled Galra scanners, which the rebels were taking advantage of."

Sitting up straighter, Ryou frowns.  "Okay, but what's a dream cage?"

"Haggar captured me and put me under a spell that made me dream of a perfect universe.  It took the team months to realize where I was and when they tried to get me to wake up it almost killed me," Shiro recites flatly.

Ryou stares back, aghast. 

"Which was why I had to spend so much time being Shiro," Quiet agrees, crossing his legs under him.  "After as well. After months of not moving, he wasn't in a condition to fight anyone."

Well, it was a better reason than the Voltron Show, for sure.   Months of pretending to be Takashi would still be torturous, but he can at least understand the mentality better.

Swallowing hard, Ryou nods.  "Well, we know what to look out for, now.  That's twice now." Three times, actually. "Speaking of, you should be careful about what panels you put your hand against, Shiro.  Learned that lesson the hard way."

Shiro's brows go up.  "How so?"

"For us, there was an override that essentially turned off my conscious mind.  Any order given in a specific dialect of Galra was obeyed, period." Ryou looked down at his hand, frowning.  "It even worked on this one, because the programming to connect to Galra systems is the same."

Shiro and Quiet both stare at Ryou.  

"That's good to know," Shiro finally says slowly, like he's carefully picking each word out.  "You have the coordinates for that?"

Takashi pulls up coordinates on the projected armor screen, then sends them to Shiro.  They must have worked that out while Ryou and Quiet were gone. He leans over so his shoulder brushes Ryou's.  "Do either of you speak Galran at all?"

"Very little," Shiro says, frowning.  "Only what little I remember of the arena.  Quiet?"

Shaking his head, Quiet frowns.  "About the same, I would assume."

Eugh, that's not great.  Ryou crinkles his nose. "You could ask the Blade of Marmora for a few phrases and have them on hand.  'Wake up' or 'stop'. Maybe 'follow me' too. Tell them it has to be the dialect they use for Arena prisoners, but they had Ulaz stationed there.  I'm sure they know it."

Quiet presses his lips thin, considering, but then shoots Ryou a grateful look.  "Okay." Then he nudges Shiro's arm. "Well, that's just yet another reason to change out a better arm.  One not made by the witch."

Groaning, Shiro scrubs a hand over his face.  "This again? Is this really the time?"

"Considering what we just learned, I think it's a fantastic time."

Ryou holds up his own prosthetic hand.  "Seconded. Seriously, neither of you should have those things.  They're dangerous liabilities, and the more we think we know, the more they go wrong."

Scowling, Takashi elbows Ryou.  It's gentler than it would normally be, probably because he's still worried from discussing the failsafe.  "Don't you start too. These arms work fine, and the have combat benefits we can't afford to give up."

"Or, even better, you can have a badass gun arm."  Ryou gestures grandly toward Quiet, who obligingly holds out his arm and works the joints like he's showing it off.  "It's cooler, it has range, and it's taking out these flower people like a weed whacker." 

"It can feel, too.  Nearly as well as my left arm."

Ryou stops dead.  "It can  _ feel?"   _ He scoots over to see it better, reaching out greedily.  Then he pauses, remembering it's attached to a person. One whose patience he's already tried enough today.  "You mind if I look it over?"

"If you'd like."  Quiet politely doesn't mention Ryou's eager noise, and tolerates the way he starts turning it over and examining the palm.  There’s something fond and nostalgic to his gaze, before he looks away. "Would you like to see as well, Takashi?"

Takashi crosses his arms tightly.  "No, I'm good over here." 

"It can feel!"  Ryou croons. "Takashi.  Ta-ka-shiii. My brother.  How do you not want this?" He looks up at Quiet.  "Can you charge it up now without firing?"

Quiet starts to nod, then frowns.  "It uses quintessence."

Right.  Alien flower people.  Even if the clone quintessence doesn't catch their attention, that's still pushing it.  Ryou sighs. "It's gorgeous. What amazing engineering. It's Olkarian? It would be easy to ask them for one in our verse.  Even easier to ask them for a second one." He turns his eyes onto Shiro.

Somehow, Shiro manages to look less amused than Takashi.  Clearly, they've had this fight before. "There's nothing to be done about it now, regardless.  Can we drop the conversation for now, please?"

Ryou pretends to consider that.  "Mmm... nah. Cool arm is cooler than yours.  You should upgrade."

"He makes an excellent point," Quiet says mildly.  There's even a hit of a smile at his lips. Apparently Ryou's ability to be obnoxious is more tolerable when it's used to benefit Quiet's goals.

Takashi rolls his eyes.  "Shiro's right. We don't have time to argue this now.  We need to start getting sleep so we can get the Lions and stop the Vogn before they try and get through the rift.  Can we agree that's a little more pressing than talking about theoretical arm replacements?"

"This isn't theoretical.  It's right here." Ryou waves Quiet's hand for him.

"Your concerns are noted," Shiro says, his voice hardening.  "We need to discuss who is going to be on watch first. Takashi, you certainly still need sleep."  He turns away from them completely, steamrolling past the conversation.

At first, Takashi sets his jaw, looking stubborn.  But then he sighs and nods. "A little more rest before a fight would be wise, yes."

It's clearly a dodge to the conversation, but Shiro is right.  Quiet nudges Ryou’s shoulder and mouths ‘I’ll send you the specs.’

Grinning like a fiend, Ryou drops Quiet's arm and nods.  "There should probably be two people on watch. Rock paper scissors for it?"

Quiet shakes his head.  "You've been up longer. You rest first.  We'll trade with you both in a few vargas."

In another situation, Ryou might have argued that.  But frankly he's pretty exhausted, and he thinks splitting watch by universe is a good idea.  He could certainly use a conversation with Takashi after everything they've learned today. Besides, he's  _ tired. _  It's been a long day of falls, searches, fights, and rescues.  A few vargas of sleep will do him good.

"Alright.  Your best guess on a few vargas, anyway."  He scoots his way back over to Takashi, and is greeted with a small smile.  No hard feelings on the needling, then.

With that settled, Quiet and Shiro step a little further out into the gloom.  As Takashi and Ryou get ready to sleep, they start to talk in low voices. The conversation is too soft to catch everything, but Ryou definitely hears Quiet say "the Olkari could make you one in quintents."

Apparently Takashi caught it too, because he smiles as he lays out.  "I see the resemblance, now," he whispers.

Glancing up at the two figures, ghostly in the gloom, Ryou nods.  "I do too."


	7. Shiro

“Rise and shine, sleepyheads! It’s the start of a big day.”

Shiro groans as the familiar voice draws him out of sleep. It hadn’t been restful, exactly, but it had been rest, and he’s not so inclined to leave it. 

A voice off to his side must feel the same way, because it grumbles a moment later, “It’s not even day. There’s no sun. Nothing’s starting.”

“Fine,” the first voice drawls, “rise and gloom, it’s who knows when in the Twilight Zone. We got stuff to do if we ever wanna get home, so let’s move it.” 

Shiro cracks his eyes open blearily. Even with his helmet, it takes him a moment to adjust to the gloom. But he does eventually make out Ryou crouching a little ways distant, close enough to be heard but carefully just out of range of any sudden, violent awakenings. All things considered, probably wise, though it’s unfortunate that it’s clearly an automatic habit in their reality too. He wonders how many sleepless nights both Takashi and Ryou have dealt with, and how many nightmares.

Ryou gives him a jaunty wave when he notices he has Shiro’s attention. Shiro grumbles, but rolls to his feet, stretching to get the stiffness out of his muscles after a few vargas laying on alien ground. Quiet does the same next to him as he asks, “Any trouble?”

“None,” Ryou reports. “A few patrols, but they didn’t get close enough to spot us. They don’t seem to like it in this darker section of the forest much.” 

“That works for us, so I’m not complaining,” Shiro says, as he and Quiet follow Ryou out of their makeshift shelter. He and Quiet’s shift had been thankfully unexciting as well, and they’d finally traded off with the other universe after what they could only assume were a few vargas.

Takashi is outside, digging through the med bag as he rearranges things. At their approach, he glances up, and holds out a pair of silver bars. “Here,” he says. “The med bag on our Lion comes with some other survival gear, including ration bars. They taste awful and they’re not particularly filling, but it’ll be something in our stomachs, at least. We already ate ours.” 

“Thanks,” Shiro says, taking the bars and handing one off to Quiet, only just now aware of the rumbling in his stomach. They peel off the wrappers and dig into their meager meal. As Takashi had promised, it tastes terrible, but it’s food, so Shiro’s not complaining. He’s sure all four of them have had worse.

“Are we all set for the attack?” Quiet asks, as he eats. 

“As we’ll ever be,” Ryou says. “We’ll still need to get to a console first to know where we’re aiming for. After that…” He shrugs. “Me and Shiro wreck the disruptor, and you guys grab the Black Lions. Hope everything doesn’t fall apart, as Voltron plans tend to do.” 

That last part is a little painfully accurate. Shiro really hopes it’s not the trend for today. 

“I’m thinking we shoot for your Black Lion this time,” Takashi says, nodding to Quiet. “Just in case. Since your first aid supplies are still on that Lion, Ryou and Shiro should take this bag, so everyone’s covered in an emergency.” 

Quiet nods, but as he’s tucking the wrapper trash away in the med bag, Takashi gives Shiro a significant look. Shiro catches the meaning immediately—Quiet’s meds will be in that same Lion, and Takashi’s doing what he can to make sure Quiet gets to them. 

Shiro’s unexpectedly grateful to his counterpart. The failsafe discussion a few vargas prior certainly hadn’t been pleasant, but at least now he can count on Takashi being solid backup for Quiet in an emergency. He  _ understands  _ now, at least a little. 

“What about the bayard?” Shiro asks, materializing it from its holster in his thigh armor. “Three of us can use it.” 

“You’d better keep it,” Quiet says. “All of us should avoid being seen, but the moment you break that disruptor the Vogn will be all over you. Your bayard form will at least give you a some moderate range, and distance seems to help with that Deep speech. If we get in a fight on our end I can probably cover us with this.” He raises his right hand.

“That, and Takashi should be avoiding fights if he can,” Ryou adds, a little warningly. “You shouldn’t be straining that shoulder more than you have to, so stay hidden.”

“But you don’t have to?” Takashi grumbles.

Ryou grins. “My whole  _ job  _ in this plan is to break stuff,” he says. “Of  _ course  _ I’m gonna be getting into fights.  _ I  _ didn’t dislocate my shoulder, I’m allowed.” 

They look like they could easily get back into it again, so Shiro interrupts. “That’s fine with me, I’ll keep it.” He stores it away again, stuffs his own ration wrapper in the bag, and looks around. “Everyone set, then?”

“Let’s do this,” Ryou says, slinging the bag over his shoulder. 

Getting back to the Vogn complex isn’t difficult. There’s a few patrols, more the closer they get, but by now the four of them know how to fall still and silent and rely on Quiet’s and Ryou’s strange camouflage to remain unseen. They make it to the edge of the quintessence-stripped forest quickly—at least, Shiro thinks—and survey the military base. 

“They’ve been busy while we were gone,” Ryou mutters. 

He’s not wrong. The place is swarming, with more Vogn heading back and forth across the complex from the middle buildings to the outer hangars and back. Others move around in their strange organic vehicles, and there appears to be a staging area being set up for some kind of launch. 

“Our escape must have pushed up their timetable,” Takashi says. “They know we can’t leave the Lions.” 

“Sneaking through that is going to be time consuming,” Quiet says. “Even with Ryou and I to cover you two, there’s so many...it’s going to need precise timing.”

“We’ll just have to be careful,” Shiro says. “Where are these console things you need to look for?”

“In the largest building,” Ryou says, pointing. “Same place we broke you out of. So of course it’ll be swarming the most.” 

Shiro presses his lips together. This definitely won’t be easy. “Let’s go.”

They do make it there—eventually. It takes a long time, even in this seemingly timeless place, for them to dart from one point of safety to another without being seen. They’re almost caught no less than six times, and once a particularly observant Vogn almost seems to see through the trick, staring intently straight at Shiro for what has to be at least a solid dobosh before finally moving on. It leaves Shiro a mess of nerves by the time they even make it to the building, and the hard part hasn’t even started yet. 

But they finally work their way inside the building again, and its complex maze of unmarked hallways and bioluminescent lights. It takes them longer than Shiro would like to actually find one of these consoles—he thinks. But six hallways in, they manage to break into some sort of office area, with five or so circular bioluminescent panels each mounted on a natural-looking table.

“Finally,” Quiet says. There’s a sense of urgency and resignation in his tone. “No time to waste. I’ll start looking. You,” he adds, pointing at Shiro, “don’t freak out, I’m fine. Ryou, don’t let him freak out.”

Ryou only grunts in acknowledgement, and eyes the panels like they’re something toxic. He and Takashi both take up positions by the door, just in case any Vogn come in and catch them while they’re sneaking.

“Wait,” Shiro says, alarmed at the warning, “Why would I—”

But Quiet’s already moving, pressing his left hand to the panel. Almost instantly he goes still as a statue, eyes wide and staring ahead. Shiro waves a hand in front of his face, but Quiet doesn’t react, and his eyes don’t track the movement. It’s like he’s blind.

Despite the warning, Shiro can’t help but feel a new pang of alarm in his chest. He reaches for Quiet’s left hand to break his contact with the panel.

“He’s fine,” Ryou says, glancing over at Shiro. He’s a little more subdued than usual, but he still seems confident in his words. “Promise. He did this last time, too.” 

Shiro looks uneasily to Ryou and back to Quiet. “If you say so,” he says, pulling his own hand away. But it still doesn’t feel right. Based on Ryou’s sympathetic look, he agrees. 

It probably doesn’t actually take that long for Quiet to find whatever he needs in the Vogn equivalent of a computer. But it’s still  _ far  _ too long for Shiro’s tastes before Quiet actually starts to move again, suddenly lifting his left hand away from the panel. A fine shiver wracks his whole body, and he bows his head forward with a groan, rubbing his eyes with his left hand. 

“That’s worse the second time,” he mutters, cursing. “Transference. Ugh.”

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asks, immediately at his side.

“He’s fine,” Ryou repeats. He’s also suddenly there, giving Shiro a nudge towards the door. “How about you stand guard with Takashi until Quiet can update the map he made.” 

It’s not exactly subtle, but based on what Shiro’s seen of this other Ryou so far, that’s not surprising. Still, he hesitates. Quiet’s still blinking rapidly, and his eyes aren’t focusing. “But he’s—”

“Going to be just fine,” Ryou interrupts, making a shooing motion towards the door. “Give him a tick to readjust.” 

Shiro doesn’t like being dismissed, especially in regards to Quiet. But Ryou does seem to know what’s going on, so Shiro grudgingly heads towards the door, taking up a position opposite Takashi. His own counterpart gives him a sympathetic look before turning back to keeping watch.

“I told you not to let him freak out,” Quiet mutters behind him.

“I kept him from dragging you away from the thing,” Ryou shoots back, “but I can’t work miracles on short notice. You find what we need?”

“Think so,” Quiet says. “Give me a minute. Ugh. Humans are  _ not  _ made for thought-seeing.” 

Ryou makes a surprisingly sympathetic noise of agreement. 

It takes what Shiro can only assume are a few doboshes for Quiet to recover from... _ whatever  _ had happened, during which they are thankfully not interrupted by any Vogn soldiers. But he does eventually seem to regain his vision, and looks no worse for wear. He brings up a crude map of what Shiro guesses is this very building they’re in, adding new features.

“It took a while to figure out how to ask for it,” Quiet says as he works, “But I think this is where you’ll find the disruptor. It had two signatures, but this one here is stronger, so I think they moved it recently for the attack. I also asked for notations on other panels along the way, and any other important landmarks, weapons or vehicles of importance to the attack. We’ll need to be sure to blow those up once we have the Black Lions back.”

“Not bad,” Takashi says, glancing over his shoulder back at them. “Do you know how well guarded the disruptor is?”

“Decent security, as far as I can tell,” Quiet says, as he transfers the modified map to the other three. “Mostly a matter of protocol, though. I honestly don’t think that  _ they  _ think we’re strong enough to get to it.”

“Sounds about right,” Shiro says, frowning. “They didn’t think much of me or Takashi when they were interrogating us. They acted like we were lesser beings, somehow.”

Takashi nods in agreement. “But you can bet they’ll attack in force the moment you get to it,” he says. “You’ll be in for a hard fight until we can get to you in the Black Lions.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Ryou says, with all the confidence in the world. “But it means it’s time to split up and get to work. So hey, Quiet—do me a favor and look out for Takashi. He likes to get himself into trouble.” He grins. “I’ll keep an eye on Shiro for you in return.”

Quiet blinks for a moment, but then smirks. “Sure. You got it. I’ll keep him nice and safe for you.” 

“Hey,” Shiro says, indignant. “Why is it only us that need looking after?” Takashi nods in agreement, expression identical to Shiro’s. 

Quiet and Ryou exchange glances for a moment. “They don’t even think they’re going to get in trouble,” Ryou says, as though neither Shiro is there. 

“All the more reason they need protecting,” Quiet agrees, with an exaggerated sigh. 

“Can we just get moving?” Takashi asks, scowling a little. “We are in the middle of a mission here.” 

“Right,” Quiet agrees, more solemn. “Follow me—we’ve still got some ground to cover to get to the Black Lion.” He eyes Shiro and Ryou. “Good luck.”

“We won’t need it,” Ryou says. “Just be ready to bail us out after we shut that disruptor down.”

“We will be,” Takashi agrees. Then the two of them are out the door and gone, leaving Shiro and Ryou alone in the console room.

Only having Ryou for company is strange, honestly. Accepting Takashi as another version of himself had been odd, but relatively simple. They thought the same way for the most part, and had what Shiro assumes are several vargas at least to acclimate to the other’s existence. 

But Ryou is a different story. Things have been hectic since their escape, and Shiro hasn’t really gotten a chance to know this other Ryou at all. Watching him interact with Shiro’s own counterpart has certainly been a strange experience; even watching him interact with Quiet just emphasized how strangely different the two clones were in most ways, while highlighting a rare few common qualities. But Shiro has no idea where to really start interacting with  _ this  _ Ryou, even if he had agreed to partner with him for the duration of the mission.

They’ll just have to wing it, he supposes. Stick to the job at hand, and hope they can get through it in one piece. 

“Alright,” Shiro says, bringing up the map Quiet had provided. “Let’s see if we can get to this thing. Preferably without being seen for as long as possible.” 

Ryou also brings up his map, but frowns as he reviews it. “Wait a sec. According to this, the disruptor is  _ outside  _ this main building, in one of the warehouses.” 

The crude map is a little difficult to read—it’s manually made, and nothing at all like Pidge’s detailed high-tech ones—but once Shiro decodes it, he nods. “You’re right. We’ll have to backtrack.”

“Why would the linchpin of their entire attack be outside? Seems like a risk,” Ryou says, still frowning.

“Quiet said they moved it,” Shiro reminds him. “They must have gotten it closer to the staging grounds for the attack. It’ll have to be one of the first things through the rift to prevent counterattacks.” 

“And they don’t consider us enough of a threat to keep it under lock and key in here,” Ryou finishes, understanding. 

Shiro nods. “What can four weak Outsiders do?” he says. “They’ve shut down the Lions and don’t consider us dangerous enough on our own to halt their entire attack plan.”

“I can’t wait to show them what four weak Outsiders are really capable of,” Ryou says, with a nasty grin. “You good to go?”

Shiro nods. “Take a right outside the door. I’ll stick close for your camo.”

The map isn’t perfect, but they are able to at least use it to get to the outside again. The Vogn are still out in force, here, but they can’t see Shiro or Ryou as long as they’re careful. It gives them some degree of control as they circle the building and head towards their goal in the distance. 

Of course, travel is still far too slow for either of their liking, especially as their direction inevitably takes them closer and closer to the staging grounds where the attack will no doubt begin from. The Vogn might not consider careful guard necessary for the disruptor, but there are so many flower soldiers moving around to prepare for the attack, it’s almost not even necessary. They’re likely to crush any opposition with sheer force of numbers. Only an idiot would try to break into the middle of such high military activity without serious backup.

It’s probably a good thing all four of them are made of the same kind of stupid, then. 

But it does mean Shiro and Ryou spend what he can only assume are several doboshes at a time sitting and waiting for an opportune moment to run to the next form of cover without being seen. There’s a lot of cover—scattered vehicles, stacks of supplies, portable command hubs organizing different work efforts—but also a lot of soldiers. If they time things wrong, they’re liable to run straight into a group of Vogn, and not even Ryou’s camouflage will save them then. 

Ryou starts to fidget during those periods, clearly anxious to gain a little more distance and not at all happy at having to restrain himself. Despite the situation, Shiro can’t help but note yet again the  _ difference  _ between Ryou and Quiet. His own clone wouldn’t be fidgeting at all; he’d be stock still, waiting for the perfect opportunity to move with high concentration. He wouldn’t be cracking smart-ass jokes or needling Shiro about his name at any given opportunity. He wouldn’t be—well, he wouldn’t be a  _ Yellow  _ Paladin. 

The difference since meeting this other Ryou has been incredibly stark, even in the limited time frame Shiro’s been able to observe him at all. Shiro can barely fathom how he’d turned out so different—and occasionally, so annoying—but at the same time, he’s happy for him.  _ This  _ Ryou seems to have figured out who he wants to be. 

Maybe that’s why he strikes up a conversation, during their next long period of waiting. They still have time and no opportunity to move, and Shiro asks suddenly, “Can I get your opinion on something?”

Ryou blinks, and turns to regard him quizzically for a moment, before saying, “Sure. I’m always ready to give my opinion on absolutely anything.” And under his breath, he mutters, “Not like we’re going anywhere, for the moment.” 

Shiro eyes the still-working Vogn distastefully. No, they’re stuck here for a little while. He considers his words carefully, not entirely sure how to ask the question, before he finally says, “You...seem to have a handle on who you are.”

“Which is a polite way to say ‘you’re nothing at all like me,’” Ryou notes. “Very observant of you. Not seeing where my opinion factors in, though.”

Shiro sighs, fighting down a twinge of irritation at that. Can’t he just ask without getting backtalk? “It factors in because you’re the only one who can give  _ actual  _ advice on how to help Quiet with the same thing.”

Ryou opens his mouth automatically, presumably to snark back, but then pauses as he registers the words. “Okay. Back up. Advice on what—him acting like  _ me? _ ”

“No,” Shiro says. “Well. If that’s what he wants, then yes, but mostly I just mean individualizing at all.”

Ryou raises an eyebrow, but gestures with one hand for him to continue. 

Shiro tries to gather his thoughts. “He...has a hard time with it,” he tries to explain. “I tried to encourage different choices he made at first, but...well, especially after he got sick, drawing attention to even minor differences between us seemed to make him skittish about those choices. So now I’ve fallen back on not drawing any attention at all to different things he does, and hoping if I don’t point it out he’ll just get comfortable with it without second-guessing himself.” He frowns a little. “But that doesn’t seem like the answer either.”

Ryou doesn’t seem surprised by anything Shiro’s explained. “What if he wants to be like you?” he asks, with a challenge in his voice. “What if he doesn’t want to be all that different?”

“That’s fine, too,” Shiro says. “I told him as much when we first met. I don’t care if he still likes all the same things I do or does things the same way, as long as that’s what  _ he  _ decides he likes or wants to do. Not because somebody put it in his head.” 

Ryou seems to consider this, but then turns away and glances at the Vogn. “They’re moving,” he says. “We’re good in three—two—one—”

They run to their next section of cover, and get lucky enough to traverse two more open areas with no interruptions. By the time they’re within close visual range of their target, several doboshes have passed, and Shiro’s beginning to think the conversation’s been dropped.

But then Ryou speaks up again. “You want my advice? Hang back sometimes.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Let him react to things first,” Ryou says. “Especially for new things neither of you have experienced before. You already know how you feel about it, you don’t need to go first. Give him a chance to have a unique reaction he knows is  _ his  _ before having to compare it to yours.”

“Huh. You think that would work?”

Ryou shrugs. “Can’t hurt. Honestly? It’s confusing being someone else. Figuring out the difference between yourself and that someone else can be tough. Not having to compare constantly would help a lot.” He considers. “And, y’know, you could occasionally shove him in the direction of something you’re not interested in or never did. Music, shows, hobbies...”

“But I don’t know if he’d like it or not either,” Shiro says.

“That’s the point, isn’t it? Even if he hates it, at least  _ he _ decided he hates it,” Ryou says. 

Well. That’s a fair point, Shiro supposes. He mulls it over through two more mad dashes through the facility.

“Thanks,” he says finally. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Ryou says, smirking. “He could decide he wants to be  _ extremely  _ annoying, and you’ll only have yourself to blame.”   
  
Shiro snorts. “I suppose I’ll have to find a way to live with it. Takashi survived, somehow.” 

“Debatable. I can be  _ very  _ obnoxious,” Ryou says. There’s actual pride in his voice over that.

“I don’t doubt it,” Shiro says dryly. “Based on everything I’ve witnessed since we’ve been here. But even so, I’m glad things seem to have worked out for you.”

“Why? Because I’m different?” Ryou asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you seem comfortable with it,” Shiro says honestly. “The occasional annoying behavior seems like a fair trade off for not being locked down to Takashi.” 

“It took some time, and there were bumps.  But yeah, I came out of it pretty well,” Ryou says. But after a moment, he adds a little more seriously, “Thanks.”

Shiro nods. 

They make another two dashes between cover, which puts them about halfway to their goal. That makes it about time to check in with the others, so Ryou swaps to the shared frequency for all four of them, and asks, “How you guys doing on your end, Takashi?”

The only answer over the frequency is a muted curse, an unmistakable groan of pain, and a warning, “ _ Get back! _ ” 

_ “Almost missed that one,”  _ Takashi hisses. “ _ I can barely—argh, it just keeps going—”  _

_ “Just gotta try and push through it,”  _ Quiet says. “ _ But it—damn it, there’s nothing to kill, we can’t just turn it off.”  _

Shiro and Ryou exchange alarmed glances. It doesn’t sound like a fight on their end, but even so, Shiro’s hesitant to speak and distract them if they need to focus. 

Ryou, apparently, has no such concerns. “What’s going on?” he asks. 

There’s silence for a moment on the other side, and then Takashi speaks. “ _ They did something...set off some kind of trap. That Deep speech is just screaming through the whole base.”  _ Shiro can hear the edge of pain in his voice even now, as he tries to focus enough to speak while fighting back obvious discomfort. 

_ “It’s...distracting,”  _ Quiet agrees, and the same tension is in his voice too. “ _ Painful. Not sure if we can turn it off….”  _

“We can come back,” Shiro says, alarm rising. Neither Takashi nor Quiet are the type to admit to pain so obviously, especially when they can’t be seen to be caught in it. If they’re admitting to it now, it has to be bad. “We’ll find the source and shut it down.”

Ryou nods in agreement, even though the other two won’t see it. “It might take us a little time to get to you, but we’re on our way if you can just hold out—”

“ _ No! _ ” Both Takashi and Quiet snap at almost the same time. It’s disconcerting, like a strange echo, when they sound so similar. Both Shiro and Ryou freeze. 

“If you need help-” Shiro begins, frowning.

“ _ There’s nothing you could do,”  _ Quiet says. Shiro can all but  _ hear  _ him speaking through grit teeth. “ _ It’ll affect you just as bad as us. Don’t be stupid.” _

_ “Destroy that disruptor,”  _ Takashi agrees, strain just as clear in his voice. “ _ We’re going to need the Lions functional to get out of this.”  _

It makes sense, but it’s still not easy to admit to it. “Fine,” Shiro says grimly, “But it’s still going to take us time to get there. This thing is in the heart of the war preparations.”

“ _ We’re not moving fast here either,”  _ Quiet says. “ _ We’ll probably be the ones holding you up in the end.  It’s only going to get worse from here.”  _

“ _ Just hurry when you can,”  _ Takashi says.

“We will,” Ryou promises, and there’s an equally grim set to his own expression that hadn’t been there previously. “Just hang on and don’t die.” 

There’s acknowledgement on the other line, and then silence as they mute again. Shiro switches back to a one on one frequency with Ryou, not wanting to distract them. “Move,” he says, nodding to the Vogn that are just now beginning to walk away. “We’ve got an opening.”

Ryou breaks into a full run without needing further encouragement, heading for the next piece of cover. Shiro sticks close on his heels to maintain his borrowed functional invisibility, not wanting to waste more time than is necessary.

They manage to squeeze a little more speed and efficiency out of their stealth, combined with an unhealthy number of dangerous risks that nearly get them spotted. Shiro can’t help it, and neither, apparently, can Ryou; hearing their counterparts obviously struggling had been upsetting to both of them. The faster they can get in position, the faster they can help. It’s the  _ only  _ way they can.

It’s full of risks, but it works. They manage to close in on the warehouse that’s supposed to be holding the disruptor in what Shiro can only assume is record time. The final mad dash to the organic building is frightening, with so many Vogn wandering around, and Shiro can feel his heart hammering in his throat as they run. But they make it, settling in against one of its smooth natural sides as they survey their options.    
  
“Two entrances,” Shiro notes. “The wide double-doors for vehicles, and a smaller door for standard entry. The big one will be hard to defend though, once we get started.”

“At least it’s closed,” Ryou says. “No witnesses. Doesn’t seem to be a lot of movement in and out, either.”

“The scientists and soldiers seemed at odds when we were being questioned,” Shiro says. “Probably no reason for them to interact, and the army still has preparations to make.”

“Works in our favor,” Ryou says, sliding along the wall to the smaller door when the coast is clear. It’s slightly ajar, easy enough to pry open without drawing attention. They crack it open just a hair, enough to peek inside and take stock of the insides. 

“Four of’em,” Ryou says under his breath. Shiro hears him with the comms rather than directly. “Two each.”

“Fine by me. I’ll take the two on the right.” They were closer to the other doors and more liable to try for help. Now that Shiro has his bayard, he can probably take them down faster.

“Got it,” Ryou agrees. “Ready... _ go! _ ”

They burst into the room, and Shiro pauses only long enough to snap the door shut behind them. The less witnesses to hear, the better. Ryou is already charging towards the closer of the Vogn on the left, materializing his shield, but the scientist doesn’t even seem to have noticed him yet. Whatever that camouflage is, it’s  _ strong.  _

Or maybe not. Shiro starts charging for the closest of his own targets, but the scientist is so focused on his work he doesn’t even seem to notice—at least, until Shiro materializes his bayard. The Altean interpretation of a naginata flows into his hands in a flash of purple-white energy, and as it does the Vogn’s frilled blue-petaled head snaps up in confusion and turns to glance in his direction.

It’s the last thing that Vogn sees. 

One swipe with the bladed end of the polearm is enough to cut the Vogn down permanently. The scientist barely has time to make more than a soft yip of surprise, and his Deep speech is more confusion than pain. It cuts out quickly, and with the extra few feet of range the bayard gives him, it doesn’t sting nearly so badly. 

Shiro’s already spinning on his second target, at the same time that target turns to face him. “What is the meaning of this?” she snaps, but then her pale eyes widen in recognition as she she catches sight of Shiro. A moment later, she snarls, “ _ You.”  _

Shiro shares her surprise, even without its Deep speech reflection in his head. He recognizes this Vogn too—the long red petals that tangle like braids on her head are unmistakable. Yvikna, they’d called her. She’d been at the council meeting. She’d deliberately tortured Shiro just to get Takashi to talk. 

Shock gives way to fury, and Shiro charges, barely suppressing his own snarl of anger at the last moment. 

He slashes with the bladed end of his bayard, going for a quick kill. But Yvikna is equal to that, because she steps back with far more agility than Shiro might have attributed to a robed scientist, red petals rustling. The blade misses her by barely an inch.

 

She doesn’t have a weapon, but that doesn’t seem to stop her. She outstretches her hand towards Shiro, and her pale eyes glimmer with quintessence as she snarls, “ _ Suffer. _ ”

 

The word is cruel, but the impressions that accompany it with the Deep speech are infinitely worse. They boom in Shiro’s head, loud and thundering and too much for his mind to handle. And it’s not just the  _ loudness  _ of those impressions that hurt, but what they  _ are _ —feelings of agony, of exhaustion, of defeat, all smashing through his head and clawing at his senses all at once. 

Shiro gasps, and staggers to a halt in mid-strike, hands shaking on the bayard staff. This was so  _ strong.  _ This was above and beyond anything the other Vogn had ever done. Yvikna had figured out how to weaponize Deep speech somehow.

Yvikna herself wears an arrogant expression as she steps forward. “I will take this,” she says, reaching for Shiro’s right arm. “You are no longer needed. We will use the other one.” 

Her fingers brush the back of Shiro’s hand, and the Galra arm powers itself up again without Shiro’s input. Like before, it’s alarming, but this time Yvikna doesn’t let go, and after a moment purple sparks of quintessence begin to ripple along its surface and clash with the pale blue of the Vogn’s own abilities. She releases Shiro instinctively, a soft flicker of Deep surprise darting through Shiro’s mind to match her equally surprised expression.

It’s small, but it’s enough of a distraction from her onslaught to let Shiro act. He twists the staff end of his bayard and smashes it into her side. Yvikna’s shock is both seen and felt as the breath is knocked out of her, and she doubles over in surprise. Shiro takes the chance to sweep her legs out from under her, and she falls to the ground with a crash, cracking her head on the natural floor. 

She groans, and Shiro can feel the dull thud of pain at the head injury emanating from her. But after her weaponized Deep speech, this is easy to bear.

Shiro steps forward, and she catches the movement, looking up at him blearily. Her eyes fall on the bayard as he raises it, and then to him. Her thoughts are, even now, a mix of arrogant confusion and shock. 

“An Outsider  _ couldn’t— _ ” she hisses, struggling to rise.

Shiro sweeps the bladed end of the naginata down in a finishing thrust. Yvikna transmits one last burst pain and surprise, but then her mind goes still. Even in death, she seems stunned that a mere  _ Outsider  _ had been the cause of her demise. 

Shiro stares down at her for a moment, panting more harshly than he should be, before finally pulling his bayard free. The bladed end is coated in the same sap-like substance he’d seen previously. He grimaces, before dismissing and re-summoning the bayard to clean it. 

“You okay?” 

Shiro glances over. Ryou’s finished up his scientists; those two are down for the count behind him, sprawled on the ground. Ryou himself glances to the remains of Yvinka and back again, before giving Shiro a questioning look.

“Fine,” Shiro says. 

“Caught tail end of that. Seemed...personal.”

“She was one of our interrogators,” Shiro says. He barely keeps the growl out of his voice. 

Ryou’s eyes flash with anger, and for a moment there’s something frightening in them. But then he spits out, “Good riddance, then,” and turns away from Yvikna like she’s already old news, heading for the center of the room.

The lack of any kind of judgement or call out is strangely reassuring, and Shiro settles enough to focus on the problem at hand, glancing around the room. Ryou’s heading towards what can only be the disruptor, square in the middle of the warehouse; it’s the only metal thing Shiro’s seen since they got here. But now that he’s seen it, Shiro’s shocked at just how  _ big  _ it is. It’s easily the size of three cars stacked on top of one another. They’d probably barely fit it through the warehouse doors. 

“I guess with an area of effect as wide as what we saw, I should’ve expected it to be this big,” Shiro says, staring. 

“Same,” Ryou admits, as he reaches the disruptor, and runs a thoughtful hand over it. “No wonder they’re desperate for metal. To just make one of these they’d have to scrounge any scraps they could.”

“Can you still dismantle it?”

“I can get it started,” Ryou says confidently. “Enough it’d take them a couple vargas to fix it. We’ll have to make sure to blow the rest sky high once we’re in the Lions, though.”

“Fair enough,” Shiro agrees. “You get to work, I’ll secure the area. Once you start messing with it, I’m sure Vogn will start showing up.”

“Just keep’em far enough away that that Deep speech isn’t a distraction while I work,” Ryou says, “and I can tear this thing apart in no time.”

“Will do. That’s what this is for.” Shiro gestures absently with the bayard. The extra few feet had definitely helped. 

“Pretty rad,” Ryou admits. “I totally called it, though—they are different. Though, really, what’s with you two and range?”

“What?” Shiro asks, baffled.

“Nevermind. Not important. Getting to work.” 

Ryou cautiously reaches towards one of the many parts on the disruptor, activating his Altean hand to cut it away. Sparks of quintessence immediately go to war along his palm, and he withdraws it quickly. “Okay.  _ This  _ is gonna be fun. Like playing Jenga, except sometimes the pieces could explode.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad thing, if we weren’t near it when it did,” Shiro says.

“We would be near it when it did,” Ryou confirms. “Now shush and let me work.” 

His expression is already falling into one of intense concentration, and the fact that he completely passed up the opportunity for any form of ‘quiet’ joke is enough of an indicator that he’s settling into the task at hand. 

Shiro leaves him to it, instead roving the warehouse to look for potential defenses. There are several workbenches and heavy looking natural cabinets full of supplies that could be of use for blocking some avenues, if he can shove them into place. 

He gets to work, dismissing his bayard to free up his hands, and swaps to the full frequency as he does. “Takashi, Quiet, we’re in place and starting to dismantle the disruptor. Are you close to the Lion?”

“ _ Getting there,”  _ Quiet answers, after a moment. His voice is still terse, but with some measure of control. 

“ _ You might have to hold your ground for a little bit before we can reach you, though,”  _ Takashi adds. “ _ It’s been slow going. _ ”

“We can hold,” Shiro promises, and hopes he’s not lying. He starts shoving one of the large shelving units in front of the door he and Ryou had come through. It won’t hold the Vogn off forever, but it will stall them, at least. “Just be ready.” 

“ _ We will be,”  _ Quiet says. 

Shiro falls silent as he attends to his own job, not wanting to distract the others. He drags another set of workbenches and shelving units in front of the large double doors, blocking the entrances as much as possible. These doors are too tall to block completely, but if he puts enough junk on front of them, he can at least keep an entire unit of Vogn from swarming them. 

“How’s it going?” he calls to Ryou over the comms, once his blockade is set. 

“Slowly,” Ryou answers, through grit teeth. “They build machines like a plant would. It’s clever, but it’s also not like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“You gonna be able to figure it out?” Shiro asks. 

“Yes,” Ryou says. “It’s just taking a little bit.”

A shout rings out in the complex outside, at the same time that Ryou curses. Shiro grimaces. “Better figure faster,” he says grimly. “Because I think they know we’re here.” 

“My bad,” Ryou admits. “Some kind of alarm.”

“I’ve got it,” Shiro says, as the shouting outside gets louder. He summons his bayard again, and takes a defensive stance in front of the double doors as they begin to shudder open. “Just get that thing taken care of. I’ve got your back.” 

The doors open quickly, revealing at least a dozen Vogn soldiers, with more swarming closer by the tick. Even in the eternal dusk of this riftworld, they create a surprisingly colorful array of combatants, with flower petals of reds, blues, pinks, yellows and oranges in all manner of shapes. Shiro knows better to underestimate them, though, and watches them cautiously. 

The Vogn seem initially stumped by Shiro’s makeshift barricades, clearly not expecting them. But they’re not stupid, and immediately start unlimbering their guns, aiming over and around the barricades where they can.

“No!” one of them barks, and Shiro can feel the Vogn’s hasty panic and anger just as much as hear it. “Don’t shoot, you idiots! You could hit the disruptor!” 

The Vogn aren’t happy about it, but they catch the Vogn’s point. The guns are put away, and Shiro breathes a little in relief. That will give him a little chance, at least. 

“Break the barriers,” the same Vogn says. Shiro suspects this one is their commanding officer. “Get through and kill them!”

They need no further encouragement. The Vogn immediately set to work, doing their best to bash through the barricades or shift them aside enough to squeeze through. 

Shiro doesn’t make it easy for them. The moment any of them make so much as a crack in the barrier he stabs the bladed end of the naginata through to the other side. Shrieks of pain that he can both hear and feel tell him he hits the mark more often than not, gashing hands, torsos, or legs. The reflective pain hurts, but Shiro pushes past it. His strikes make those on the other side are more cautious about trying to get through, which buys them a little time.

It works for a while, but inevitably Shiro’s luck runs out. He can’t be everywhere at once, and eventually the Vogn manage to force through the first break in the barricade to the far right, while Shiro guards the attempts on the left. The first soldier staggers through the break, already reaching for the strange wooden cylinder at his belt used for close combat.

Shiro curses, but rushes to meet the first new opponent. 

The Vogn sees him coming and lashes out with the wooden rod, already sparking with energy. But his reach is poor compared to Shiro’s and easily avoidable. Shiro stabs with the bladed end of his bayard at the Vogn’s feet, and when the soldier jumps back reactively, Shiro snaps it up to smash the flat of the blade into the Vogn’s head. 

The soldier snaps back, stunned, with even his Deep speech having shorted out. He collapses back into the breach he’d just come through, falling against the second soldier working her way through. They both flail in the resulting confusion, shouting unrecognizable curses as they drag parts of the barricade back down on themselves and unintentionally seal the hole again.

That’s good enough for Shiro for now, because another breach opens, and another Vogn slips through on the other side. Shiro curses under his breath again, but meets that one in combat too, and once again manages to stun her enough to shove her back into the break she’d entered through. 

It would probably be better to kill them, but alive and stunned they cause more commotion and chaos than dead. Shiro doesn’t need to beat all of them—he just needs to stall enough to give Ryou time to work.

It’s that methodology that he applies, and again, for a while, it manages to hold. The Vogn start to breach the barrier, but Shiro uses them to plug the holes right back up, creating enough confusion and chaos that it manages to slow them. 

But once again, he can’t keep up with the sheer  _ number  _ of soldiers. Three manage to break through the barrier at multiple locations, and they’re smart enough to swarm Shiro simultaneously. Shiro’s forced to retreat or let them surround him, and loses a few precious feet of ground in the defensive fight, surrendering his ability to control the barricade. 

Damn it. 

He swings his bayard around, stabbing at the nearest Vogn. He scores a small hit in the enemy’s armor, but the Vogn have learned to be wary of Shiro’s weapon now. The one he’d injured makes a grab for the staff part, while the other two try to rush close enough to get inside the bayard’s range, swinging their sparking rod weapons.

It’s not a bad move, but they didn’t know Shiro was just as dangerous without his bayard. He kicks one of the rushing Vogn hard, shoving her into the second rushing soldier, and both stagger back in surprise. 

The third trying to grapple is startled by the move, enough for Shiro to shake his weapon loose and smash it into his opponent’s head. That Vogn falls. Shiro ignores the sharp burst of Deep death pains, and spins on the other two as they try to recover. 

His bayard blade splits sap-coated gashes into their bark-like armor and throats, and they fall too. Their deaths are much slower, taking several ticks, and Shiro grimaces at the pain feelings that roll off of them. It  _ hurts.  _ He has to pull off better kills, if he can, or he’s going to be too disoriented to do his damn job. 

There are more Vogn coming already, but he has a few ticks of respite. He uses them to glance over his shoulder, hissing, “How’s it going?”

The disruptor behind him has a mess of scattered parts around its base now, and several sections of it dance with quintessence sparks. Ryou himself is halfway up the strange machine, right arm buried deep in the mess of mechanics, rooting around with an intense look of concentration.

“It’s going,” he responds curtly. “Figuring out how this works. I have things to try. Give me more time.”

Shiro’s lips press together at that, but he doesn’t have any other choice. 

More Vogn attack. This time there are four, and based on the cautious way they approach, they’ve learned from their brethren’s mistakes. All four have the shock rods out, but none look willing to engage. Instead, two try to distract Shiro while the other two try to slip around him for Ryou.

He won’t have any of that, and rushes the first one trying to bypass him. They shout in alarm, and Shiro winces as the startled fright stabs deep into his own mind, but he doesn’t slow. The soldier tries to bring his wooden rod up defensively, but it doesn’t do him any good, and the bayard cuts through it with ease and comes crashing down on the enemy’s head. His Deep alarm winks out as quickly as it had been generated.

The second Vogn ducking around him realizes her mistake, and turns to face Shiro or risk having her back to him. He doesn’t give her a chance to act further, bringing the naginata low and sweeping her legs out from under her before she can attack. She goes down with just as much surprise as her partner had, and a final thrust with the bayard ends her Deep thoughts, too.

Something hits him in the back, just under the white armor plating, and energy courses through him suddenly, sending sparks dancing across his vision. Everything is  _ pain,  _ suddenly, seizing up every muscle and burning him from the inside. His teeth grind together, half from trying not to scream, half from his jaw going rigid.

The other soldiers. _ Damn! _

The pain goes away suddenly, but his body doesn’t forget, and he nearly sags in place as his muscles try to go slack from relief. Shiro refuses to let himself fall, though.  _ You have a mission. Buy. Time.  _

So even though moving hurts, he moves anyway, seizing the bayard in his fingers and ramming the staff end behind him. He gets lucky as he feels resistance, and the stunned pain of Deep speech as his attacker makes a soft  _ wuff  _ of surprise. He twists the bayard, forcing his opponent sideways, and a second confused Deep thought joins the first as his first attacker is slammed into the second. 

Shiro spins to face them, wincing a little at the strain it puts on him. Both Vogn seem genuinely surprised to find him still standing, let alone moving. He doesn’t give them a chance to recover their wits. He sweeps the bayard around as he steps back, giving himself room to move, and smashes it hard into their heads, sending colorful petals scattering. The force is powerful enough to fling them back towards the disruptor even as their started Deep thoughts wink out. 

Four more down.

Shiro sags for just a moment, but more are already coming, and he forces himself upright and at the ready. Ryou is still working. He has to hold. He  _ cannot  _ lose. 

The Vogn learn from their brethren’s mistakes like before. They know better than to try and pass Shiro before he’s been dealt with. That’s good; it means Ryou is safe as long as Shiro holds the line. 

Shiro learns from his mistakes, too. As the next wave comes, Shiro remains in constant movement, never slowing, always flowing from one blade form to the next. If he keeps moving, the Vogn won’t get a chance to get near him. If they can’t get near him, they can’t use those weapons. Even one took a lot out of him. He can’t afford to get hit again.

It works, after a fashion. A thrust to the chest takes another Vogn soldier down with a screech of pain that cuts off abruptly. That flows smoothly into a throat strike that takes another down, that moves again into sweeping the feet out beneath two others, disorienting them and scattering their weapons across the floor. Block an attack, then flow away to gain distance. Kick another that tries to rush. Slam the butt of the bayard into one’s stomach to stun him while smashing another’s petalled skull in hard enough he can hear bark crack. 

More come, in bigger numbers, but it hardly matters to Shiro anymore. His vision is becoming sharply focused, and the blood pounds in his ears as he moves. He’s not sure if he’s hearing the shouts of the Vogn or the cheers of a crowd anymore. The Deep screams of pain hurt, but Shiro ignores them, pushes through them, because he can’t afford to feel them anymore. The Vogn claw at him, try to grab him, strike him with their weapons, but he shrugs off the assaults. 

He keeps moving, strike after strike after strike, ignoring the way his muscles ache. Acknowledging any pain, any weakness, will lead to death. The ground is sticky with sap-like blood and bodies are littered around him and piling higher. 

But they keep coming, and he keeps fighting. He absolutely  _ cannot  _ lose. 

The burning sensation of the shock rods hits him suddenly, and despite himself he screams. The attack comes from the left, the rod pressed against his side, and the agonized sensation of the energy tearing him apart from the inside rips through him. The rod pulls back, and Shiro slams the blade of his bayard through his attacker the moment he’s able to move. 

But another hits him from the right, and another hoarse yell of pain escapes him as the shock rod jams into his right leg. He staggers when that’s finally removed, and releases his bayard with his right hand long enough to claw out wildly with his suddenly powered Galra arm, driving the opponent away. The Vogn screeches as Shiro’s burning fist grasps at his face, and Shiro’s mind is assaulted by the Deep pains. 

Stupid. That had been  _ stupid.  _ The pain’s making him not thinking right. He brings his bayard around to finish the burned Vogn quickly, and the reflected agony in his head blessedly cuts off. But he feels shaky all over, in mind and body, and his grip on the bayard trembles with exertion. His breaths are harsh pants, tearing painfully at his ragged throat.

He’s tired. He  _ hurts.  _ There’s so many, and he can’t fight all of them. 

But in the red haze his vision has become, the Vogn keep on coming, and he  _ can’t lose.  _ He wearily drags the bayard up defensively once more.

“Shiro!” 

He blinks.

“Shiro, get down,  _ now! _ ” 

Some of the red haze clears, and Shiro recognizes the voice. Ryou. Another clone. Partner on the mission. Right.

He also recognizes the meaning of the words, at the same time three glowing objects go sailing overhead, towards the oncoming crowd of Vogn. 

_ Uh-oh.  _

Shiro turns and hurls himself as close to the disruptor and Ryou as possible, hitting the ground and dismissing his bayard to free his hands. He throws them over his head protectively, just barely in time.

The barriers had been fully broken through and a crowd of dozens of Vogn are already pushing into the warehouse, with more waiting outside. The glowing objects come down right in the middle of them. The Vogn soldiers’ eyes widen in realization, and several of them start to yell, or to run. The cacophony of Deep speech is almost too much to bear, and Shiro groans at the assault on his head.

Then everything explodes.

It’s not like a normal explosion. There’s no concussive force. But he can  _ feel  _ the blast of energy rolling over him even from here, sending his armor’s systems haywire for a moment. The whole riftworld seems to rumble, and the blasts themselves roar like fire as the energy is released. Brilliant blue sparks of quintessence, large as crackling lightning bolts, roil all around the impact sites, turning absolutely anything within thirty feet into a charred husk. The flashes of light are startlingly bright in the ever-present dusk, and for a moment Shiro is blinded until his helmet’s systems reboot and screen the light for him. 

“Shiro! You okay?”

Someone crouches next to him. Shiro blinks spots out of his eyes and recognizes Ryou.

“Yes,” Shiro says. His voice sounds ragged and hoarse, and he winces, swallowing. It doesn’t help much. “What the hell was that?”

“Remember when I said it was like Jenga with some exploding pieces?” Ryou says. “Well, those were some of the exploding pieces. I think it made some kind of quintessence bomb.”

“Better them than us,” Shiro mutters.

“I figured,” Ryou agrees. “We’re done, though. Disruptor’s nonfunctional, for a little while at least. Let me help you up—you look like crap. They really did a number on you.” 

Shiro winces as Ryou gets a hand under his arm and helps to lever him up. Once back on his feet, he can stand, but every part of him aches. Those sparkrods are  _ awful. _ “Yeah, well, I had to hold off an entire army by myself.”

“You sure did,” Ryou agrees, eyeing the bodies scattered across the warehouse floor. “You okay?”

Something about the way he says it makes Shiro think he’s not asking about if he’s physically okay. Shiro had...well, he’d slipped a little too deeply into Champion, at the end there. He’s ashamed of how easy it had been. That hadn’t been supposed to happen, but finding himself in a combat gauntlet, he’d just...he’d needed those instincts, that survival will, to manage. He wonders if Ryou saw that. If he’d known what was going on. 

But all he says is, “I can get out of here. Still fight, too.”

If Ryou catches the evasion, he doesn’t say anything, just nods. “Okay. I called the others while you were holding them off. They’re working the Lion angle. We just need to get out of here so they can reach us.”

Shiro nods. The Black Lion is far too big for this warehouse, and if they tried to smash their way into it...well, if the disruptor didn’t outright explode, they’d still be crushed in the building’s collapse. “The bomb’s quieting, but all that quintessence should blind the Vogn. We can slip out the front and hide somewhere outside.”

Ryou grins. “Works for me. Let’s go.”

They make it out of the warehouse in a rush. The devastation out here is genuinely impressive; in a riftworld where quintessence is everything, a quintessence bomb is apparently devastating. The ground has enormous gouges in it, and there are bodies everywhere.

Less impressive is the remainder of the Vogn army, surrounding the warehouse with their strange organic firearms out. As Shiro and Ryou bolt out of the building, each soldier levels their weapon in their direction. Their general aim is a little off, due to Ryou’s strange camouflage, but with dozens of guns pointing in their direction, it will hardly matter. At least one shot is bound to hit. 

Both of them slide to a halt, and immediately turn to dive back into the building. The Black Lions can take care of the soldiers outside; what they need now is cover. But more Vogn swarm in behind them to cut off their access to the door, and then they’re well and truly surrounded.

Shiro curses, summoning his bayard again. Ryou settles back to back with him, and Shiro can hear the sound of the paladin shield being summoned. 

“That’s a lot of Vogn,” Ryou notes.

Shiro’s about to ask if he  _ always  _ states the obvious, but there’s a ripple from the Vogn soldiers nearby, and one steps forward. Shiro feels his heart drop into his stomach when he recognizes this one, too—Thren, the general of the Vogn army and interrogator of the Vogn council.

“Quiet, Takashi,” he calls softly over the link. “I hope you’ve figured out the Black Lions, because things have just gotten a lot worse. We need an extraction.  _ Now.”  _


	8. Takashi

Takashi's heart slowly sinks as he walks away from Ryou and Shiro.

They've split up dozens if not hundreds of times before, often in equally dangerous situations. But they were only barely reunited before breaking off again. Takashi understands the necessity of their groups, and he knows they're the best chance of getting out of here. But it still chafes.

Part of that is the new knowledge still bouncing around in his head. Shiro had described the slow process of how Quiet had gotten sick. The failsafe was an insidious, evil thing, destroying mind and body alike. Ryou is okay, and Takashi knows it, but it's easier to remember that when he has Ryou in front of him. Just to be sure. Just so he's watching for anything off. When they get home, he's going to have to tell the others about it too, just in case. The more eyes, the better.

Now, Takashi understands why Shiro had been so tense about Quiet's medicine, and why they'd both been so serious when the clones had ended up in the wrong Black Lion. As far as they know, Quiet should be fine, but there's an uncertainty. A chance.

Rubbing his hands together nervously, Takashi steps quickly, keeping as close to Quiet's back as he can. His bright green armor is almost as bad as Ryou's in the dark, twisting hallways. Neither of them are subtle, but that doesn't matter, hard as it is to remember. Quiet doesn't look back at all, his head forward and darting from side to side as he watches for anyone approaching.

Footsteps up ahead catch both their attentions. In a flash, Quiet reaches back and grabs onto Takashi's arm, then shuffles back against the wall. Takashi goes willingly, despite the discomfort of being jammed between armor and a hard place, and ducks so his head wouldn't be visible.

Without looking up, it's difficult to tell how many Vogns pass, though it has to be several. They don't talk, just step in a shuffling group as they pass by.

Takashi holds his breath and feels just as much as hears Quiet do the same.

The footsteps grow farther away, and Quiet taps Takashi before he starts off again. Takashi darts along with him, glancing back just in time to see the huddle of flower beings disappear around a corner. They're clustered tightly, one of them walking sideways for the half a tick Takashi can still see them.

“Were they carrying something?” He asks.

Quiet makes a deeply unhappy noise. “Yeah, one of the Black Lion storage bins.”

Whirling, Takashi watches the direction they went, his eyes narrowed and lips pulled back. The Vogn probably haven't tried to dismantle either of the Lions yet, not when they don't know which, if either, pilot they'll be able to take alive. But apparently that's not stopping the scavengers from cleaning out the insides.

Ahead of him, Quiet continues to walk, his shoulders stiffer and his pace just a bit faster. Shiro actually has to jog to keep close enough for hiding.

It doesn't take long to figure out why Quiet is suddenly unhappy.

If the Vogn are picking through the Lions, then it's likely they've found the first aid kit. Including Quiet's medicine.

Takashi swallows hard, his heart clenching for this version of his brother. Quiet and Ryou are very different, but the flashes of similarities have done a lot to endear him to Takashi. Even if that wasn't true, no one deserves to have their life-saving medicine stolen and rifled through, especially by hostile aliens.

“Can I help?”

The question comes out before Takashi can stop himself, or even think it through.

Quiet's next step stutters. “Help with what?” He asks, his voice a whisper. The closed helmets should prevent the sounds of their conversation from reaching unwanted ears, but knowing that intellectually is different from the instinct to stay quiet. Same as when Takashi had held his breath earlier.

Takashi considers, not sure how to bring this up without either making Quiet feel even worse about his medicine, or being an ass. The only other way he can think of to ask is something he already desperately wants to know anyway. “If the failsafe triggers in Ryou. What can I do to help? What makes it easier?”

There's silence over the radio again, but it seems thoughtful rather than offended. Quiet takes a breath to speak, but then one of the organic doors in front of them suddenly scrapes open. In an instant, Quiet turns to cover Takashi, this time turning to face him. They stand face to face, barely an inch of space between them and helmets nearly scraping. Takashi snaps his arms against his chest, making sure nothing can peek out from around Quiet.

A Vogn steps out of the doorway. They wear the soldier uniform, and they have one of the guns against their side. Their yellow petals are ragged, like they'd been ripped long ago and had never healed right again. “You'll have your work done in two pulses,” they say. His dispassionate impatience echoes in Takashi's head.

There's a yelp from inside. “Two pulses?” Demands another voice. They're farther away and blocked by a wall, so the Deep speech hardly registers. But even so, Takashi feels the indignation and panic. “That's not possible!”

“That's an order from General Thren,” Yellow-petals replies, not moved at all. “Your superior seemed to have confidence in your abilities. Was she wrong?”

There was a long pause. “We were given two milliflares,” the other says, voice and Deep voice both nearly trembling with rage. “Two pulses is-”

“You are not the last piece of the chain, and you do not get to dally-”

“I'm telling you what you're asking is impossible, and Yvinkna will support that!”

As the argument gets louder, it’s clear that neither of them are going to be moving anytime soon. Takashi closes his eyes and takes a deep, slow breath, keeping himself calm. This can't last forever, not when everyone here is so busy. Then they'll move on and get to the Lions. Ryou and Shiro need time to get to the disruptor and break it properly anyway.

Once he's centered again, Takashi looks over Quiet, gauging how he's doing. The reaction is instinctive. Patience was one of the virtues that Ryou had decided shouldn't apply to him anymore, and so standing around awkwardly like this would be torture for him.

But Quiet seems to have no such problem. Mind, he's doing his best to hold himself that crucial inch away from Takashi, but that's mostly being polite rather than twitchy. Otherwise, his eyes stay closed as he listens to the bickering, occasionally wincing when the Deep speech gets too loud. There's no tension, no twitching fingers or tapping feet. No sign that he's about to turn around and take matters into his own hands.

The difference is startling, but certainly not negative. Just strange.

“I'm not sure we should wait long,” Quiet says. Takashi starts, thinking he's just been proven wrong, but instead Quiet just narrows his eyes thoughtfully, visible even through the glass. “With how oddly time flows here, I'm not sure if we're still on track with the other two.”

That's a good point. Takashi tilts his head to watch. By now, the soldier has stepped back in, but not closed the door, and it sounds like the other Vogn is right in their face. They don't sound like they're winding down yet. “Another little while, I think,” he says. “It might cause too much noise. With all the beings roaming around, it's not worth the risk if we can help it.”

Quiet nods and shifts his feet, getting comfortable for a longer haul. Then he meets Takashi's eyes. “Shiro didn't tell you how to take care of Ryou if the failsafe triggers?”

It takes Takashi a moment to flip back to the interrupted conversation. “Oh, he did. But it was medical. Basic caretaking. I'd like to know what you think would help. I know there's a lot you don't remember, but you're the one who went through it. I thought you'd be the best person to ask.”

Quiet stills, blinking several times as he thinks it over. “Well, the parts Shiro talked about are important. I'm sure Ryou would appreciate you keeping him alive. But…” His eyes glaze over, clearly lost in one of the memories of that time he does have. “I do have one piece of advice. Try to look at situations from outside your own perspective.”

Takashi's brows jump up. Outside his own perspective? He's not even quite sure what that means, much less why that would be important. “Can I have an example?”

Eyes focusing again, Quiet inclines his head. “When-”

“You're being unreasonable!”

“You're being insubordinate!”

“You are  _ not _ my superior!”

Both of them wince at the increasingly loud and angry Deep speech. Takashi's stomach actually rolls over as his head throbs. This is getting very old, very quickly.

Quiet glances over at the door, then sighs. “I just mean to not assume. There were times when I was disoriented and anxious. For most of that time, I was utterly dependent on Shiro. He did a good job, but when I couldn't express what was bothering me, he tended to assume it was what would bother him. For good reason, because we're so alike and our memories were nearly identical at that point. But he didn't try to think outside of that box, and my fears were either unaddressed or made worse. Just remember that Ryou is a different person, and what bothers him might not be what would bother you.”

A smile creeps over Takashi's face. “I think I have an advantage there over your Shiro.”

That draws a tense chuckle from Quiet. “That's true, yes. But that's my advice.”

Well, it didn't answer Takashi's original question. He can keep an eye out for Quiet showing any symptoms, but he's still not sure how to help the man in that case.

But he got a good response anyway. One he'll have to think on more later.

Quiet turns his head to frown at the arguing pair, then shakes his head. “I think we have to risk it.”

“I agree,” Takashi says. “Now, while they're both still inside. It's only the two of them, so we can take them down quickly, hopefully before anyone hears. Then we close the door, and hopefully no one looks for them for a while.”

It's an awful lot of 'maybe' and 'hopefully's, but they really can't afford to sit here for however long.

Quiet nods. “How's your shoulder?”

“Good enough for this,” Takashi says immediately, setting his jaw. He's not going to be a dead weight in a fight, thank you very much. “I can hit the soldier first, then get us out of the way for you to hit the scientist.”

“Agreed. I'll get us closer. Stay by me.”

Quiet flips around, and then they shuffle together until they're standing in front of the door. This close, the camouflage might begin to fail, but neither of them are paying enough attention to see through it.

Perfect.

Takashi steps around Quiet and lights his arm for just long enough to drive it through the yellow-petal'd soldier's back. Then he yanks them both to the side just as Ryou activates his own arm and sends off three short shots.

It's over in less than five ticks.

Between the two of them, they shove the larger soldier deeper into the room, next to the body of the scientist. As soon as they're both out of the way, the door closes behind them, hiding the results.

That'll have to be enough for now.

They two of them set off again, back to Takashi dogging Quiet's heels. The further in they get, the more their progress slows. The hallways aren't quite as oppressively busy as outside, with the many patrolling and walking Vogn in every direction. But they must be getting close to the Lions, or else something equally important.

As another set of footsteps echos down the halls, Quiet lets out an annoyed sigh as he steps back. By now, he doesn't even have to grab Takashi. He steps in behind Quiet with unfortunately practiced ease, and they wait as an entire string of soldiers walks by, marching and not speaking at all.

“How close are we?”

“Not too far,” Quiet says, which is not as encouraging as Takashi had hoped. “We're about two thirds of the way there, I think. But with how often we're stopping, it might take some time to get there.”

Takashi opens his mouth to make a sarcastic comment about that, but catches himself. This isn't Ryou, and he might not appreciate the same playful ribbing. Instead he just nods.

Right as the hallway fills with screeching.

_ ALARMED. DANGER. ALARMED. DANGER. _

The Deep speech rocks through Takashi like no other has.

It rips through his head like the shock wave of an explosion, whiting out his vision completely. For a moment, his head entirely blanks, like the force of the emotions have completely overwhelmed his own mind. Takashi clutches at his helmet, fingers digging in. His instincts say to rip the helmet off, touch his head, find out what's causing this pain. Only long honed instincts from the Garrison keeps it on. No matter what, no matter the problem, their helmets were supposed to stay on, or else expose them open space.

Right now, the worry isn't exposure to the elements. It's cutting off their main method of communication and keeping them as silent as possible. Discovery would be nearly as deadly as the void of space.

Ahead of him, Quiet stumbles to the side, groaning over the communicators. His fingers start to twist under the bottom of his helmet, lifting.

Which was when Takashi remembers that Quiet didn't have the memories of much of the Garrison. And he won't be in his right mind to muffle noises of pain.

Jolting forward, Takashi uses one hand to shove the helmet back down firmly. He uses the other to grab one of Quiet's hands and yank them away, then tugged them both to the wall.

_ ALARMED. DANGER. ALARMED. DANGER. _

There's no relief from the feeling.  Takashi curls, making himself as small a target as possible.  He doesn't hear anyone coming yet, but the alarm could be covering footsteps.  The noise isn't actually that loud, but the Deep aspect of it is unrelenting, a bombardment of sensation.

After only a moment of struggle, Quiet finally seems to focus on Takashi.  He takes a ragged breath and nods, acknowledgement and thanks. “Think they found the bodies?”

“That's unfortunately likely,” Takashi says.  He looks around, trying to find a source for the noise.  But if he's coming from any one particular spot, then the echo down the hallway makes it impossible to tell where.  Which means there's nothing they can break and turn it off, or at least lessen the cacophony. 

_ ALARMED.  DANGER. ALARMED. DANGER. _

“We have to keep moving,” Quiet says, audibly grinding his teeth together.  He uses the wall to push himself upright, then offers his hand to Takashi. “I didn't look for any more consoles along the way.  With how busy this section is, I don't think we can afford to try anyway. You can't hide behind me while I'm at the computer.”

That's also a good point, but not one Takashi wants to hear.  Even so, he forces himself to nod. His head throbs as the pain continues, but this wouldn't be the first time he's worked through that.  It won't be the last, either. At least, it won't be if they get out of here. “Let's go, then.” He takes Quiet's hand, and they head down the hall.

Unfortunately, the alarm gives them two serious disadvantages.  First, it hides the heavy marching footfalls of the Vogn, giving them less time to react.  Secondly, the pain is beyond distracting. At times, it makes Takashi's stomach roll. His eyes keep wanting to close to brace against the overwhelming sensation.  Concentration is difficult, and sometimes it's all Takashi can do to put one foot in front of another.

_ “How you guys doing on your end, Takashi?” _

The familiar voice snaps Takashi's attention back to the present.  It's just in time, as he only barely hears the sound of footsteps coming up quickly behind them.  

Quiet curses as they both stumble back against the wall, hard enough on his shoulder that Takashi lets out a groan.  “Get back!” Three soldiers quickly pass. From their lack of reactions, this alarm isn't any worse to them than a human fire alarm.  They pass quickly, their guns up and eyes training over the hallway as they search for intruders.

“Almost missed that one,” Takashi says, voice instinctively low again.  “I can barely-” He winces as his headache throbs. “Agh, it just keeps going-”

“Just gotta try and push through it,” Quiet says, pulling back.  He winces apologetically when he realizes that Takashi's grunt had been from aggravating his injury, but Takashi waves him off.  He looks around this section of the hallway with renewed annoyance. “But it—dammit, there's nothing to kill, we can't turn it off.”

_ “What's going on?” _ Ryou demands, voice growing tight with alarm.

Shit, right.  Between the near miss and the constant distraction, Ryou's question had been forgotten.

It crosses Takashi's mind to lie or downplay the situation, but it's equally possible that Ryou and Shiro will have it used against them, so it's better they know.  “They did something... set off some kind of trap. That Deep speech is just screaming through the whole base.”

“It's... distracting,” Quiet says, an ironic twist to his lips at the understatement.  He gives one more glance down the hall, then they start off again. “Painful. Not sure if we can turn it off...”

_ “We can come back,” _ Shiro says, voice tight.  He has the rough edge to his voice that Takashi now connects to worry for Quiet.   _ “We'll find the source and shut it down.” _

Takashi's stomach sinks as he realizes that Shiro is serious.  He sees Quiet pause as well.

Ryou chimes in.   _ “It might take us a little time to get to you, but we're on our way if you can just hold out-” _

“No!”  Takashi and Quiet both cry, in eerie tandem.

_ “If you need help-”  _ Shiro continues, clearly unconvinced.

Quiet's shoulders tighten as he interrupts impatiently.  “There's nothing you could do. It'll affect you just as bad as us.  Don't be stupid.”

Despite the fact that the other two can't see, Takashi nods firmly.  He doesn't want either of them experiencing this, especially when it would be worse than useless.  They need the plan done as soon as possible. “Destroy that disruptor,” he says, voice thick from both annoyance and pain.  “We're going to need the Lions functional to get out of this.”

There's a clearly unhappy pause.  

The split was necessary, but Takashi tenses as he realizes that they put the two very protective counterparts together.  Shiro clearly looks after Quiet, and Ryou has his own particular way of looking out for Takashi. He hopes they won't be stubborn.  Or impulsive.

It's probably a good thing Ryou isn't alone.

_ “Fine,”  _ Shiro says darkly.   _ “But it's still going to take us time to get there.  This thing is in the heart of the war preparations.” _

“We're not moving fast here either,” Quiet says, which is a very generous way of putting it.  “We'll probably be the ones holding you up in the end. It's only going to get worse from here.”

Takashi bites back a sigh as he thinks about it.  “Just hurry when you can.”

_ “We will,”  _ Ryou says. _ “Just hang on and don't die.” _

“We'll do our best,” Takashi says flatly.  He cuts off the communications just as Quiet pulls him back into the wall again.  This time, it's a pair of Vogn with a tech pad from the Castle of Lions. It's turned off, and they pass it between themselves as they speak in low voices.  The Deep speech is entirely drowned out by the alarm. They seem to be in no rush despite the timeline they must be on, and they take their damn time going down the length of the hall.

Quiet frowns as they slowly pass by.  “I'm not sure we should let them have that.  Who knows what kind of information about our universe of the Lions could be on there?”

“I don't think we can risk exposing ourselves for another fight,” Takashi says, if reluctantly.  “Besides, I'm not sure they'd even know how to turn them on.”

He wants to, though.  Seeing his things in the hand of the Vogn sets a fire through his blood.  These beings haven't quite earned a Galra level personal grudge, but he certainly doesn't like them.  An old instinct sinks its claws into his stomach, demanding he not let his few possessions be stolen away.

That's probably from the arena.  Takashi doesn't have time to examine it yet, so instead he shoves it away.  The mission is more important than one pad, and if they do their jobs right then it won't matter what information the Vogn have.  They'll never be able to come to their universes.

As they curve around to the next section of hallway, Quiet holds up a hand. Takashi immediately stills, then creeps forward so he can see as well.

The next hallway slowly grows wider, more of a room than any other section. Several Vogn stand, three listening to one red-petaled soldier as they tell each Vogn what their jobs are.

The end of the room branches off into three separate passages. Takashi doesn't even have to ask which way they need to go—the second one has a small parade of Vogn coming out, several of whom are helping to carry another of the storage bins. Another grips an armful of water packets, which means they've gotten into their food supplies.

Takashi's stomach rolls, reminding him that none of them have had much to eat over the past maybe-a-day. The empty sensation threatens to dredge up darker memories, but he shoves those away with practiced ease. Not now.

The group splits. Several turn to go down the other two hallways, while the ones carrying supplies continue to head straight toward where the red-petal'd Vogn is giving orders. As they approach, the other three are shooed away with impatient Deep speech. This close, the words and feelings should both be clear, but the blaring alarm still covers too much.

The original set of three all turn and head in Quiet and Takashi's direction. They jog, but they don't seem to be keeping an eye out for intruders the way the other groups have. Instead they make a beeline out, even as they unholster their guns.

Quiet and Takashi duck away, waiting for the soldiers to pass. It doesn't take long, thankfully, but when Quiet glances around the curve again, and groans and yanks back. Several more Vogn pass, heading the same way.

In the enclosed space, the alarm continues to blare.

_ ALARMED. DANGER. ALARMED. DANGER. _

Takashi rubs over the front of his helmet, like he can pinch the bridge of his nose the way he wants.

Looking out one more time, Quiet sighs, the noise strained. “We're going to have to just inch our way over. This section looks like it sees a lot of foot traffic. I don't think we can wait for a break, especially if that one soldier just stays here.”

Takashi winces. This would be so much easier if he was Pidge sized. If anything, he's a little broader than Quiet, though the armor hides that fact. They're going to have to be very careful, because one wrong move of an arm will reveal Takashi to anyone in the hall.

“Alright,” Takashi says. “Just move slowly and I'll try to keep up with you.”

But Quiet shakes his head. “No, just move like you normally would, not like you think I would. I can predict you better that way.”

Right. This version of Ryou mimics his original for missions and pretended to be Shiro for months while he recovering from captivity.

It's odd. Takashi can't image his Ryou doing that. Even the Voltron Show had been an opportunity to mock Takashi, not to accurately depict him.

“Alright,” Takashi says, trying to keep the doubt out of his voice. He believes that Quiet does his job well, or else the other reality’s team wouldn't still being doing it. But it's so far removed from his own experience that he can't picture it.

From the glance over, Quiet has picked up on his reluctance, but he at least doesn't comment. Instead he nods to the wall. “Keep your back to that, and we'll shuffle sideways together. It provides the most cover.”

Whatever makes it easier. Takashi stands as close to the wall as he can without scraping his jet pack. It does them no good to camouflage, only to give their position away by making a loud noise. “I can't see around you, so just let me know when to go.”

“Right. On go.” Quiet glances once more time, then pulls back. Another Vogn comes through, this one scanning the area with their gun. For a moment, the weapon trains precisely on Quiet and Takashi, but they sweep it away and continue on. “Go.”

Takashi steps left, shuffling his way around the curve. He watches Quiet's legs nervously, prepared to stop if they fall out of sync. But, miraculously, they don't. Despite the differences in Quiet's movement from either Shiro, he's able to match Takashi almost precisely.

It's actually eerie to watch.

They make it two feet before Quiet hisses, “stop.”

Takashi freezes in place, staring at the back of the mint green helmet. More Vogn pass.

“Go.”

Three feet.

“Stop.” A pause. “Go.”

One foot. “Stop.” A longer pause. “Go.”

Three feet, and they finally get around the curve and into the room itself.

Time is so strange that Takashi can't predict how long it takes. But it’s far, far too long for them to get so little a distance.

Even in the room itself, Takashi can't see much. Quiet is pressed close to him so they're both of the way of anyone walking by, which means most of his field of vision is taken up by helmet. He can just barely see the feet of another group of Vogn, getting their orders and placement from Red-Petal.

“You two,” Red-Petal says, just barely intelligible over the alarm. Their Deep Speech is professional and dispassionate, which would be a welcome relief if it wasn't for the much louder noise. “Head to the courtyard and join the second force. You three are to follow-up. Speak to Revin about your specific roles. And you on the end, take that metal to be melted.”

“Yes, sir,” comes the chorus of replies. They split off, one heading back around to the left-turning hallway, while the rest head the direction Quiet and Takashi just came.

Takashi narrows his eyes. “Multiple forces. They must be planning on coming in waves.”

Quiet twitches, like he wants to turn to look at Takashi but catches himself. “I missed what he was saying. I've been watching for when they're looking in our direction. How many? Go.”

Once they stop again, Takashi continues. “Three, at least. Two forces and a follow-up, which I think we can assume is extraction.”

They creep along again, making it halfway into the room before they have to stop. At this point, they're nearly directly across from the order-giver and his crowd. Quiet has to cram Takashi back against the wall to avoid being walked right into.

“This is definitely an army, but do they really think they can take over an entire universe with their numbers?” Quiet glances down the center hallway and sighs as another patrol goes by. “This many is bad news for us, but not for—Go.” They only get half a foot before stopping. “-just the Galra. They'd lose the first few times, but there's only, what, three hundred?”

“Depends on how many we're not seeing, and if there's other bases around,” Takashi says. They finally creep around red-petal, which only leaves getting to the middle hallway as the last difficult part. Then creeping up that busy walkway to get to the Lions. “A smarter plan would be for them to go out, get the metal they need, bring it back in and regroup. But they don't have a very strong opinion of Outsiders. My guess is they think it'll be easy with the disruptor.”

“Well, getting rid of Voltron as their first act out of the rift would be pretty helpful,” Quiet mutters flatly.

Takashi snorts. “If only the Galra were half that good.”

“Maybe the Vogn could give them pointers.”

“Just what we need, our enemies to become allies. Who do you think would betray whom first?”

Quiet hums like he's giving it serious thought. “Depends on who's leading the Galra.”

Laughing quietly, Takashi smiles at the back of Quiet's helmet. “Good point.”

There's a pause, like Quiet is smiling as well. “Okay, I'm going to try and get us to the hallway. Watch your back, you're going to be totally exposed to anyone coming down that right hallway.”

Takashi nods, his jaw set. “Just go fast. How far are we from the Lions?”

“Another few hallways. Don't get caught here, I don't like our chances running that far.”

So much for that possible plan.

“And…Go!”

Takashi stares down the right hall, ears straining for any sign of someone coming. It's hard to tell between the alarm and the conversation ahead of them, but he hopes it stays clear for just a few more ticks.

Finally, finally, they're in the center hallway. Quiet nearly crushes Takashi into the wall as more Vogn pass in the narrower space. He hisses about an apology, which Takashi doesn't even bother to listen to. Whatever keeps them alive.

“We'll have to keep shuffling,” Quiet says. “But we just follow this to the Lion hangar now.”

Takashi nods. “Just say the word.”

“Go.”

***

Progress is painfully slow.

They go through another check-in from Ryou. He and Shiro are at the disruptor. As glad as Takashi is to hear they're doing well, their own slow pace delays a rescue. But Shiro promises they can hold as long as necessary.

Takashi believes them. They'll manage for a while. But that'll only last for so long.

Quiet seems to share the same idea. His 'go's becomes faster, riskier. Sometimes they only move a few inches before Quiet as to stop them again, growling out the word. The whole time, the alarm continues, blaring painfully through their head.  _ ALARMED. DANGER. _

Finally, the hallway ends.

They come to a huge room. The Black Lion lays on her side like a discarded toy, limp and dark in a way that makes Takashi's heart ache. According to Quiet, she's essentially sleeping. But to Takashi, she looks hurt. Or worse.

The room is also absolutely filled with Vogn. There's a healthy mix of scientists and soldiers. The first half seem to be running data, examining the Black Lion as much as they can without actually breaking it apart. There are crackles and flashes of what have to be pure quintessence at their organic consoles. Between them, the soldiers patrol in groups of three, weapons out and sweeping ahead of them.

Quiet presses his lips thin. “We'll take this carefully. There's a pattern to the soldier's movements. If we can time along with that, we only have to worry about the scientists.”

“That's going to be slow going,” Takashi notes, his eyes following the path of the soldiers. There is probably a set rhythm to it, like Quiet says, but it's difficult to tell from their limited angle. The Black Lion lays discarded on her side, obscuring a solid third of the room completely.

Brows up, Quiet glances at him. From the tilt of his head, he's either amused or annoyed. “You two definitely come from the same universe.”

At first, Takashi bristles, not sure what Quiet is getting at. But the slight curve of his lips, visible even behind the glass of his helmet, proves it isn't badly meant.

“In this case, it's just necessity,” Takashi says. “They're already to the disruptor. It won't be long until they're discovered and overwhelmed. We don't have time to take the safe route.”

“But if we get caught, then there's no rescue at all.” Despite his words, Quiet narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “You have a point. We'll go as fast as we can without immediately exposing ourselves. For now, let's at least follow the wall to get to Black's entrance. We used the stomach hatch last time, since the mouth was firmly shut on the other Lion.”

That will probably still hold true here. The problem is that the stomach faces directly toward a lot of the Vogn, and they're not both invisible. It’s at least facing them, unlike the equally visible skull hatch.

There's no helping that, though. There's no way to camouflage Takashi other than to just hope they get the angles right. This isn't even like thermal sensing or turning off the lights.

Wait.

Takashi looks over the walls, eyes wide. A number of the bio-luminescent bulbs dot the walls and occasionally the ceiling. They provide just enough light from the humans to see what they're doing, but they also help the Vogn see as well. Not in the same way, not through visible wavelengths, but they had avoided the darkened patch of forest outside without them.

“How good is your aim?” Takashi asks.

Quiet freezes, then turns to look at Takashi. “Good enough to hit any Vogn running toward us,” he says slowly. “Why?”

“Good enough to hit something the size of a baseball from across the room?”

At first, Quiet's brows furrow in utter confusion. His eyes dart around instinctively, and then his mouth falls open. “Oh. The bulbs? Because—I see.”

The benefit of the entire situation is that Quiet really does see. Quiet is an alternate universe version of his clone, yes, but he follows a similar logic path to Takashi. It makes it very easy to get on the same page.

“I can only take a few out before they’ll notice,” Quiet says slowly. “And as long as my arm is on, they might be able to see us. Ryou and I were easier to target that way.”

“Good enough. We'll alert them that we're here, but we'll make it harder for them to spot us. The surprise only needs to take us inside the Lion.”

Quiet closes one eye and raises his right arm without activating it just yet. He points to several of the bulbs, one after the other, clearly judging the shot so he can do them all in a row. He focuses on their section, giving them as much cover as possible. “As soon as I do this, we have to start moving. I'll try to get this entire section dark, but after we'll have to zag to avoid being easy targets. Don't let your guard down when we get in the Lion. There were Vogn inside before, and we know they've been raiding this one.”

That same, dark possessiveness churns through Takashi again. It's not the Vogn's to take. They're his, or maybe Quiet and Shiro's. They have no right to any of it.

Later. Those things don't matter nearly so much as getting to the Lion and rescuing their counterparts.

“I understand,” Takashi says, tensing like a runner at the starting line. “Tell me when. I'll keep the Vogn off of you while you fire.”

Quiet nods and concentrates.

Then, pale green lines erupt on his arm as the whole thing shifts and changes. Takashi has never been so close or been paying such careful attention, so he sees the entire transformation for the first time.

It's a little eerie, to be honest. This is what Ryou so desperately wants him to get?

Then Quiet fires four times in rapid succession. The one bulb right over the Black Lion and three of the bulbs on the walls around them burst in a shower of sparks.

…Alright, he does see the appeal.

The area around them dims. The helmets compensate immediately, the display brightening to match. Several of the Vogn startle and whirl. Most of them look around to the broken bulbs, already shouting, but at least two lock onto the new source of quintessence in the room —namely, Quiet's activated arm.

Before any of them can react, Quiet turns, adjusts, and fires twice more behind them, plunging them further into both reflective and quintessence darkness. One of the Vogn scientists actually shrieks as they're plunged into darkness.

“Intruder!” A purple petaled soldier cries. They draw their gun and start to fire as two more soldiers begin to run in closer.

This time, the fire is concentrated on Quiet's arm, not on Takashi. In the darkness, his active arm must stand out more than Takashi just standing there.

“Go!” Takashi says, pointing toward the Black Lion. “You can move around more. I'll hold them off until you can cover me.”

Quiet takes a deep breath to argue, probably because of Takashi's shoulder, then grunts his reluctant understanding. A shot whizzes past, only missing them because they were aiming at Quiet's side rather than his chest or head. “Alright. Stay safe.” He turns his arm off just as Takashi activates his.

Takashi only has a moment to steel himself before the soldiers are on them.

Both of them start off aimed at Quiet, but as they approach and the arms swap, they immediately refocus. To them, it may well have looked like the one visible opponent in darkness simply moved to the side.

Without another word, Quiet darts off to the side, running around the approaching Vogn. None of them seem to notice him, not with such a juicy target.

Takashi takes a deep breath, then starts.

First, he activates his shield to block the shots as more and more of the room focuses their attention on him. A couple of shots spark off the edges as the original soldier readjusts their aim onto Takashi.

Meanwhile, the other two soldiers have caught up. They pull out the long sticks, which crackle with energy as they activate. Takashi steps in to meet them, his right arm swinging in a glowing purple arc.

He can't fight as fast or brutally as he wants to with one arm shielding. It affects his balance and speed too much. But the darkened area gives him an advantage. They seem to track his arm well enough, but the rest of him must be hazy. They never look at his face, just at his arm.

It's enough.

The first strike cuts through one of the rods, slicing it cleanly into two pieces. The soldier's cry of alarm melds with the blaring around Takashi, heightening both. He winces but ducks out of the way of a second wild strike from the other soldier.

Takashi kicks the now unarmed soldier in the knee. Their bark-like skin takes most of the blow, but the force is still enough to bend their leg. They falter and flail, trying to keep their balance, which leaves them open. Takashi crashes his fist down on the back of their head, and there isn't even a grunt before they crumple down, dead.

More shots come at Shiro. Several miss, and a couple hit the shield with enough force to send Takashi stumbling back. The armed soldier lets out a growl, echoing with frustration and fear and swipes at Takashi. This time, it contacts the glowing prosthesis.

Both flash and spark. The rod cracks down the side, and something liquid and glowing drips down over the soldier's hand.

Takashi's cry is lost under the scream of pain from the Vogn. The sheer pain of it only amplifies the sparks running up Takashi's arm. The sensations fade after only a few ticks, but the Vogn continues to scream, adding his voice to the alarm.

_ ALARMED. DANGER. PAIN. _

The combined effects leave Takashi stumbling back, his shield arm threatening to falter and drop. More shots continue to rocket toward Takashi, now with better aim. They must be using the soldier's screams to better judge where Takashi is. More give up shooting at all as they begin to run into the dark fray, dodging around the fleeing scientists.

Then a flash of bright green hits the Vogn in the back of the head, cutting off his screams. While Takashi blinks quickly to regain his senses, several more flash out and hit more of the bulbs, until one side of the room is completely dark.

The charging Vogn all stumble and slow, readjusting. Those that were shooting similarly pause, and many turn to try and re-aim at where the new source of energy came from. But Quiet must have shut his arm back off, because they don't seem to know where to aim.

“Go now,” Quiet hisses, his voice right in Takashi's ears. “You're not going to get a clearer path. Once one locks onto you, the rest can follow.”

Takashi doesn't even respond. He just runs.

Two scientists scramble in front of him as he bolts, and Takashi doesn't even bother to go around. He plows through them like he's channeling his brother and lets their startled cries behind him add to the chaos. He vaults over a monitoring station and only barely manages to keep from crashing into one of the confused soldiers.

From behind one of the limp Lion paws, Quiet gestures for Takashi to join him. He has his arm out, inactive but prepared to cover Takashi if needed.

Takashi skids to a stop right next to him, bracing his hand on the Black Lion's exposed stomach. When he glances back, no one seems to be directly following him.

But the original soldier who had fired on them points back toward the Lion. “They're getting their ship! Go!”

Shit.

Quiet grabs onto the belly hatch. It immediately falls open at his touch, like it had only been braced closed. Clearly, this is how the Vogn have been getting in and out.

Both scramble in, and Quiet yanks it closed behind them just as the soldier's footsteps get closer. “We need to lock it closed again!”

Shit, right. Takashi looks around, but the place has been ransacked. All but a couple of the internal storage boxes are completely gone, and the remaining ones are turned over. Anything inside has been taken away.

There's no lock or chain remaining. But an empty storage top catches Takashi's attention.

There's a thump and a slam. Quiet grunts and braces his foot on the floor next to the hatch. He jerks and strains, teeth bared and eyes flashing as the door shudders below him. “Faster, please!”

“Give me another minute.” Takashi picks up the cover and lights his arm. Then, careful as he can, he puts his fingers just an inch past one edge and starts to cut through. The metal gives immediately, until Takashi has two pieces —a one inch wide, three foot long metal rod, and the rest of the top.

That finished, Takashi turns back around. Quiet shuffles his fingers back and out of the way as Takashi weaves the new rod between the floor and through the door handle. “Okay, let's see how it holds.”

With obvious reluctance, Quiet lets go.

The hatch shakes and shudders under the force of what has to be several Vogn. Several shots are fired, but none can begin to pierce the Black Lion's hull. As Takashi holds his breath, the rod creaks and bends slightly.

But it holds.

“That won't last forever,” Takashi says, even as he sags in place.

“It's enough for now.” Quiet nods toward the cockpit. “Keep an eye out. There were Vogn inside the other Lion when Ryou and I came through.” 

But either the Vogn had finished their initial ransacking, or they were lucky. Despite keeping a sharp eye out, neither of them find anyone inside the Lion as they walk through.

The cockpit is in better shape than the entrance, probably because there's just less to take. What few drawers are visible in this section are already pulled out and emptied, but Takashi suspects that someone had tried to wrench off the seat before giving up.

Quiet makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, then presses on the hidden compartment under the console. It opens at his touch, showing the first aid kit and a small bag. He grabs the latter first, pulling out a clear plastic container with pills inside. Quiet shakes one out and swallows it dry, then closes his eyes and just breathes.

Takashi gives him a moment, resisting the urge to lay a hand on his back. Despite their obvious connection, they're still strangers, and he's not sure Quiet will appreciate the reminder that he has an audience to his relief.

Before he can decide, Quiet snaps his eyes open and sits down hard in the pilot's seat. He passes the first aid kit back. “How's your shoulder?”

“Fine,” Takashi says.

Quiet only turns to face him, one brow up.

Pressing his lips thin, Takashi resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I'm really fine. Nothing hit that shoulder, and I didn't have to do much actual fighting.”

Before the interrogation can continue, their helmets click.

_ “Where are you guys?”  _ Ryou asks, without so much as a greeting. His voice is flat, with an edge of strain like he's working on something physical.

The tone sets off alarm bells in Takashi's head. When Ryou loses his joking edge, things are very serious.

“We're in the Lion,” Quiet replies. “We'll need a few doboshes to activate it, and then we can come get you.”

“Are you okay?” Takashi adds, trying to keep his worry from leaking into his tone. “How is Shiro?”

Ryou grunts. _ “Holding out. We're kind of sitting ducks at the moment, and we attracted more attention than we hoped. Shiro is—He's defense right now while I break this thing properly.” _

There had been dozens upon dozens of Vogn in the courtyard when they passed, and Takashi can't imagine the numbers have thinned in the meantime. Any of them are dangerous in battle, but there's only so long they can keep it up, especially with numbers against them.

Quiet's fingers tighten around the controls. “Is there any way you can retreat and find a safe space?”

_ “They're kind of onto us now,”  _ Ryou admits.  _ “And there's a lot of 'em. Won't take them long to—ha!” _

Picking his head up, Takashi rests his hand on the back of the pilot's seat. “What's going on?”

_ “You may want to turn down the volume on your helmets. Shiro! Shiro, get down, _ now!”

Before Takashi can even ask, Ryou grunts again. Then there's an ear shatteringly loud explosion.

“Ryou!” Takashi shouts, his heart pounding in his throat. “Ryou, what just happened?”

Quiet goes stock still. “Shiro?” He asks, voice smaller but no less frightened.

After a moment, there's a shaky breath. _ “I think Shiro's comms are off. He's a lil busy. The disruptor is down and that probably bought us a couple of doboshes. Hurry up.” _

The line goes dead.

Takashi and Quiet sit in silence. Their eyes meet, both wearing nearly identical expressions of worry.

Finally, Quiet nods and settles back in his chair.  His fingers curl tightly around the controls, like he's trying to keep them from shaking.  “Time to work on Black. You should try and access the astral plane too. The sooner we get both Lions, the better.”

“I have no idea how to do that.”  Takashi clenches his teeth hard and stares at the blank screens in front of the pilot seat.  Ryou and Shiro's lives are in the line, and they depend on Takashi doing something he only heard about for the first time yesterday.

Quiet's expression twists, though he doesn't open his eyes. “Even if I could describe it, it wouldn't help. It needs to be through your personal connection to the Black Lion. I was able to do it through yours, so hopefully you can here.” He pauses and considers. “Just think about how it felt when you went there with Black the first time, before you fought Zarkon.”

That sounds reasonable enough, but Takashi isn't sure he felt a particular way. He'd been determined, yes, but he hadn't realized he wasn't flying around until he saw something in the past. It had been the Black Lion controlling it all, not him.

But that's not an acceptable answer. Takashi needs to be able connect to Black and wake up his Lion, or else he and Ryou are stuck.

Quiet cracks open one eye. “Does that make any sense?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, which is only half a lie. “You focus on getting your Lion up. If nothing else, we can go pick up our counterparts and figure out the rest later.”

Nodding, Quiet closes his eyes. Then he goes utterly limp, just as still as the Lion they're inside.

No wonder Ryou had looked so uncomfortable. That's downright alarming to watch.

Takashi sits down next to the pilot's chair. He watches Quiet for a moment, until he's sure he sees the movement of his chest under the armor.

Then he closes his eyes and concentrates.

Takashi reaches out for his bond with Black, as familiar and constant as his own heartbeat. He finds it easily, but there's no answering thought of feeling. It exists, which proves that whatever is more than metal inside the Lion is still alive, but there isn't the immediate pulse of acknowledging happiness. No thought, no movement, no reaction.

No astral plane, either.

Furrowing his brow, Takashi tries to follow the bond further down. But he has no idea how to do it. There's no path to walk, nothing physical to grab onto and guide him. He's just sitting on the cold metal floor like he's meditating, and metaphorically reaching out into the dark.

He needs guidance. He needs to know what to do. He needs help.

He needs the bond.

Exactly how Takashi had felt before that fight with Zarkon, while they were being chased around the galaxy. He was so tired, he was aching, he wanted to feel safe again. Like before, the bond was a elusive, unknowable force, one he was all too aware didn't come with an instruction manual.

They need to deepen the bond.

Takashi needs to understand and connect with the Lion.

He gives himself into the bond wholeheartedly-

And opens his eyes to the glimmering purple void.

“Yes!”  Takashi surges up to his feet, grinning his relief.

“Good job.”

He starts and whirls, heart pounding in his throat as he sees Quiet standing there.  Next to him, the Black Lion looms, laying out just like in the hangar. It's covered in what looks like thick pale blue webbing.

Automatically, Takashi reaches out for the bond.  He knows this isn’t his Lion, but it looks like her.  It’s still difficult to see any version of the Black Lion so still and tied down.

To his surprise, Takashi feels something in return.  A twitch, the mental equivalent to an eye cracking open.  He gets the faintest impression of acknowledgement and acceptance, but nothing else.  This Lion recognizes him, doesn’t mind him there, but there’s otherwise nothing. 

Quiet doesn't spare him more than a glance, either.  Instead he turns and tries to dig his finger into the webs.  They resist his attempt to break in, but he finally gets through and is able to rip off a handful.

Which is not a lot, considering the size of the Black Lion.

“I can help with this,” Takashi says, stepping forward with his hand out.  “We can get our Black Lion after.”

But Quiet shakes his head.  “No, I don't want to give them a chance to give up on using us and start taking the other apart.  You need the Black Lion to get home, and your universe needs it for Voltron. Besides, this isn't physical work.  It depends on the bond, and you don't really have one with this version of Black. Go to yours.”

It galls Takashi to walk away from such an important job, but Quiet is the expert here, not him.  He nods, though his jaw stays tight. “Right.” Then he pauses and looks around. “Where-”

But before Quiet can answer, Takashi knows.  He feels the tug of his Lion, subtly different from the energy coming off this version.  It's his Black. Regal as a queen, expectant and powerful. The sensation is dimmed, but he knows her.

With only a quick wave, Takashi sets off running.

He rounds around the other Black and is just able to see a second blue mound in the distance.  It looks so far away, but Takashi grabs onto the sensation of the bond and follows it. He needs to get there fast.  Lives depend on it. His brother depends on it.

As soon as Takashi focuses on that desire, the stars around him blur and seem to surge backward.

By the time his foot hits the 'ground' next, Takashi is just a few feet from his Black Lion.

That's something to examine later.  But for now, he reaches out to touch the webbing.

Like with Quiet, the fibers resist his touch.  Takashi activates his arm and tries to cut through it, but it makes no difference.  This isn’t physical, and the application of heat and quintessence changes nothing.

It's about the bond, Quiet said.  Besides, there's too much for Takashi to ever pull away in time.  What he needs is for the Lion to wake up and shake it off herself.

_ Black,  _ he thinks, calling out.  _  Black, please.  I need you. _

There's a drowsy stir in his mind, like someone rolling over in their sleep.

Takashi puts his hand on the muzzle.  This time, it breaks through the webs like they really were nothing more than spider silk.  “Black, please,” he tries again, his eyes closed. He tugs on the bond, trying to drag the Lion from her slumber.

There's a rumble, an a very weak press back.

But then the connection breaks back down, and the Lion falls back asleep.

Dammit,  _ no!  _

“Black!”  Takashi takes hold of the webbing and yanks.  A chunk of it falls away from the side of the muzzle, disappearing before it hits the ground.  “You need to wake up. They're going to take you apart soon if you don't. We'll all die here. Please!”

There's a faint whine in return.  It reminds Takashi of a dog trying to stand up on a broken paw.  Black wants to wake up. Black wants to help and fight. She just can't.

He's doing this all wrong.  This isn't shaking the Black Lion awake.  It's giving energy back to the Lion, like when Haggar's machine had drained Voltron of all energy.

Guilt churns in Takashi’s stomach.  “I'm sorry. I didn't realize.” He rests his hands on the side of Black's muzzle again, leaning forward to press his forehead against the covered brow ridge.

He stops trying to take and pull from the bond.  Instead he _ gives. _

Takashi lets his determination and desperation fuel him, the same way he's powered through so many fights in the arena and against the Galra.  Then he lets that flow down the bond like water downhill.

When he opens his eyes, Takashi's heart is pounding, and his shoulders are set like he can fight off an entire Galra fleet himself.

Black's eyes glow yellow under the webbing.

“That's my girl,” Takashi breathes, smiling.

Only to be yanked back to himself as the floor suddenly lurches below him.

Takashi straightens up with a gasp.  Unlike when he closed his eyes, the cockpit is full of light.  The screens show the crowd of Vogn below them, even bigger than when they fought their way to the Lion.

Their view is now much higher than it was before.

“Did you get your Lion?” Quiet asks, glancing over.

Takashi swallows hard.  “I might have. I don't know if it was enough.”

“Keep working on it.  We don't-”

_ “Quiet, Takashi,” _ Shiro says suddenly. _ “I hope you’ve figured out the Black Lions, because things have just gotten a lot worse. We need an extraction. _ Now.” 

Quiet doesn't even reply.  He just yanks back on the controls.

The Black Lion lets out a powerful, furious roar.  All the Vogn below them flinch and scramble back, looking awed and terrified.

Then, the Lion crouches and jumps.

Takashi only has a moment's notice to grab onto the pilot's chair and hold on.  The Black Lion hits the rocky ceiling hard enough to nearly jolt him from his feet.  There's a great, horrible sounding crack from above them, but Black doesn't have enough time to get to ramming speed. 

Grunting, Quiet hits the pedals.  “Come on, come on!”

Black activates the rockets in its feet and roars again.

This time, it's enough.  The stone above them cracks and gives, causing a chain reaction that brings the entire ceiling crumbling down.  The Vogn turn and run, but for most of them it's far too late.

Then they're through, climbing out of the broken hatch and into the courtyard like the Black Lion is climbing out of it’s own grave.  The wings spread out, though they don't fully activate, shedding the dirt and rocks. Then Black launches into the air, crashing right through part of one of the organic buildings.

There's no question where Ryou and Shiro are.  The huge crowd of Vogn circling two figures is clear enough.

They're small and outnumbered.  Utterly vulnerable.

Quiet's face twists with rage as he flies to Black Lion right toward them at speed.  He growls out his fury, and the Black Lion matches the noise in perfect sync.

Takashi reaches for his bond with his Lion one last time and offers all the energy and emotion he can muster.  _  Please. _

There's an answering rumble, far more awake than before.

Then Takashi can't think about that, because Quiet lands them right on top of the army of Vogn.  They scatter, and several unlucky beings don't get away in time before huge metal claws land right on top of them.  Takashi would feel bad, but they were also trying to destroy his reality.

On screen, Shiro murmurs something that looks like a warning to Ryou, but that the comms don't broadcast.  Ryou goes stock still. Both of them look exhausted, though Shiro is far more roughed up than when they split up.

They need help.

Takashi doesn't bother to question what they talk about.  He hopes Shiro is reminding Ryou to stay safe and not do anything stupid.

Instead, he turns to Quiet.  “Let me out the Lion's mouth.”

Quiet's head whirls around to look at him. ”Are you crazy?  We need to get them in here, not let you out!”

“I'm useless in here, and at least I can help shield them out there,” Takashi shoots back.  “It'll take you no time at all, and I can do more outside with them.”

Quiet lets out a groan in the back of his throat, then nods.  “Go. I'll take care of the army.”

Clapping him once on the arm in thanks, Takashi turns and runs down the ramp.  He doesn't bother to slow down from his sprint as the Black Lion's jaws begin to open.  Instead he just ducks his head and jumps into the open air.

A strong burst from his jetpack slows his fall.  Takashi rolls with the landing, then pushes himself to his feet.  The Black Lion's paws step carefully around him as Quiet turns to fight back the army.

Takashi looks around to find their counterparts, only to see his brother launch himself at the Vogn general.

“Ryou!”  He yells out, activating the comms.  “Ryou, fall back while the Black Lion-”

“You watch Shiro's back,” Ryou replies, utterly cutting through Takashi's protest.  There's no hint of a joke to his tone. It's the coldest Takashi has ever heard him sound.   He ducks Thren's blow with the shockrod and counters with a strike at her head.

Takashi deeply considers running in after him. But Shiro stands nearby, shield up as he fends off stray shots from the Vogn.  Most have refocused their attention on the terrifying behemoth that is the Black Lion, but a few have focused on the injured party to fire upon.

Ryou can handle himself.  Shiro needs help.

Takashi runs to Shiro’s side and activates his own shield, holding it against Shiro’s.  “How are you doing?”

“Been better, actually,” Shiro replies plainly.  His eyes dart over to where Ryou continues to doggedly pursue Thren, then back to where the Black Lion rains destruction over the Vogn army.  “You guys did alright, though.”

“Sorry it took so long.  Any problems with the disruptor?”

“Took a minute.  Then Ryou made it into a bomb.”

Well, that explains the noise.  Takashi cracks a smile despite the situation.

Shiro knocks their shoulders together, catching Takashi’s attention.  He holds up his bayard, though the movement seems exhausting. “I can hold my own if I need to.  You want to go back up Ryou?”

Takashi doesn’t even glance over.  “I trust him. He usually only gets himself into trouble he can handle.”

A flash of a smile crosses Shiro’s face.  “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Incoming.”

A pair of Vogn break around the Black Lion’s legs and fire on Shiro and Takashi.  Without either of the clones around, the pair of them must be blindingly obvious. The shots hit the shields, doing no damage, but they quickly cover the distance.

Takashi drops his shield the moment they pull out the shockrods instead.  He ducks forward and gets under the first swing, then lights his right arm and punches the Vogn in the stomach.  

The Vogn drops the rod from the pain of the mortal wound, but bring their elbow desperately down on Takashi’s shoulder —his wounded one.  He takes the blow with a grunt, blinking back spots in his eyes from the pain. 

But Takashi knows how to work through that.  Rather than collapse to his knees, he locks his legs and pulls his fist back.  There’s a wet splatter of dark, sap-like blood. Then the Vogn goes still.

When Takashi steps back and looks over, Shiro has dropped his shield as well.  He holds a black naginata where the bayard used to be.

Takashi doesn’t do more than raise his brows.  Instead he steps back and glances over at Ryou-

Who has Thren pinned on her stomach, her arm wrenched back painfully.  There are vines creeping up one of his legs and squeezing hard, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.  Instead, he braces his free foot on the small of her back and  _ wrenches _ up.

Thren  _ screams, _ loud enough that Takashi can feel the Deep speech pain from so far away.

Her arms pulls up and twists in a way it was  _ definitely _ not meant to.

Ryou gives one more yank, drawing another pained sob from Thren.  Then he plants his foot on the back of her head and pushes down hard, keeping her in place.

Takashi watches, mouth open.

“Takashi!”  A shot whizzes by his head, barely missing him.  “Shield!”

Right.  There’s a battle going on.

Raising his left arm, Takashi begins to activate the shield-

Just as a shot finally lands, catching him in the re-injured right shoulder.

Takashi’s vision goes white.

There’s a roar in his ears, blood rushing and his heart pounding.

Wait, no—there’s two roars.

The world around Takashi shifts, a new breeze in the otherwise utterly still air. He blinks his eyes open, stunned around the pain, and sees the darkness above him, broken only by the twin rifts cutting glowing wounds across the sky.

Then there's a powerful crash behind him, the horrid sound of something creaking and breaking apart. The ground under Takashi bucks and tries to throw him off. His fingers scramble at the dirt, making his right shoulder scream in protest.

One huge metal paw comes down on Takashi's left, and then another on his right. The Black Lion — his Black Lion, his defender and bonded — crouches down protectively over him and Shiro and lets out a threatening rumble.

One active Black Lion is dangerous enough. A second, landing partially on top of the hangar that used the house the disruptor and vehicles, is asking too much. Of the Vogn left after Quiet's rampage in their Black Lion, a large number turn around and flee.

“Your ride's here,” Shiro notes flatly.  He rests down on one knee next to Takashi, his own arm up defensively.  Many of the Vogn are down or have left, but more than half are still trying to fire at or around the Lions. “Looks like you woke her up after all.”

“Could have done with waking her Quiet's way,” Takashi grunts. He pushes himself up on his good shoulder, then braces his palm on the wound. Blood leaks freely past his armor. He'll need to bandage it up soon, but that's what their first aid kits are for. He'll be okay for the next few doboshes but moving around is going to be a problem.

In front of him, the Black Lion lowers her head and crouches protectively over Takashi.  The Vogn nearest take hasty steps back, but it’s not enough to avoid the furious swipe of a giant metal claw.

Shiro offers a hand down to Takashi, then gives up that idea and just winds an arm around his chest. They climb to their feet, and the pair of them pick their way to the Lion.

“Ryou!” Takashi calls over the comms. “Let's get safe. We can meet up with Quiet once we're done here and get Shiro to the right Lion.”

His only answer is a grunt of pain.

Takashi peers around the Black Lion's leg, brow furrowed. It takes a moment to spot his brother.

Ryou hangs upside down, dangling from one leg held by Thren's vines. Her right arm hangs uselessly by her side, twisted in the wrong direction, and her face is contorted with fury.

“Oh, hell,” Shiro groans. “You get into the Lion, and I'll get Ryou.”

There's a snort over the comms. “Just give me a minute, will you?” Ryou doesn't so much as turn to look at them, but his dangling hands give a tiny wave as Thren continues to approach. She clenches her hand tight, and Ryou grunts as the vines around his legs tighten punishingly.

But by that point she's gotten close enough for Ryou to act. He folds himself in half and slices clean through where the vines branch out above him. Then he uses that momentum to twist in mid-air and swing his arm down directly onto Thren's chest and shoulders.

Ryou hits the ground sideways with a solid sounding thud, his legs still firmly twisted up. For a moment he lays still, then he pushes himself up and starts cutting himself free.

Meanwhile, the form of Thren stands frozen, then slowly crashes down to the dirt and goes still.  Thick, dark blood oozes out, shining in the dull blue lights around them.

Takashi pauses, waiting, but she doesn't so much as twitch.

“You good, Ryou?” Shiro asks calmly, although his fingers tighten on Takashi's arm. Despite his tone, there's a dark look behind his eyes, something like satisfaction.

Takashi can't deny that he feels better knowing that the being who tried to wrench his arm off isn’t going to get back up.

Finally, Ryou gets himself free of the vines and staggers to his feet.  He lists to the side as he puts weight down on his left leg but catches himself.  When a stray shot from the army of Vogn hits near his feet, he curses and starts jogging, though he winces on every step. “Yeah, time to go.”

Takashi watches, one arm out as if he could help Ryou from so far away. But he can't focus on that. Black is still lashing out and roaring, swatting at any Vogn that comes too close. If they're going to get in her, he needs to concentrate. Instead he tries to focus, but the constant, throbbing pain from his arm makes it difficult. He can feel his under suit soak through with blood, and he's starting to feel unsteady on his feet.

“We can't leave them intact,” Quiet says, voice strained. He grunts, and his Lion's tail raises to fire on one of the other buildings. It cracks and begins to crumble, showing a stockpile of weapons inside.  Quiet gives it another shot, and the insides starts to go up in flame. “Unless you plan on taking my Shiro with you to your universe, we need time to regroup.”

“No thanks,” Ryou says, panting as he stops next to Takashi and Shiro. “One of them is enough to look after. I don't have that kind of time.”

“Understandable.”

Shiro grunts and adjusts his grip on Takashi. “That's very funny and all, but I could use a hand, here.”

Ryou's eyes go wide. He gets an arm around Takashi as well, leaning awkwardly so he doesn't put both their weights on his wounded leg. “Are you calling our taxi?”

“Yes,” Takashi says shortly, closing his eyes. “Shush.”

Finding the bond with the Black Lion isn't hard. She's bright and loud in the back of his head, incandescent with indignation and fury. Her paladin had been hurt, and she was going to stop anyone who wished to do more harm.

Takashi tugs on the connection, drawing her attention back down from her rage. They need safety.

The Black Lion gives one more sweep of a paw, knocking over several Vogn trying to fire uselessly at her face. Then she activates her rockets to turn smoothly, burning dark lines in the ground and making more of the Vogn scatter. Finally, she ducks her head and opens her maw, giving them safe passage.

Slumping against the arms holding him up, Takashi lets out a sigh. His concentration ebbs as his head spins. Blood loss, no doubt. He's definitely light headed.

The three of them make their way inside and up the ramp to the cockpit. “Can you fly?” Ryou asks, his lips pressed into a severe line. “You can barely sit up, you can't fly. Shiro, can you fly this Lion?”

“I can try.” Shiro helps settle Takashi down against the console. He sits down in the pilot's chair and closes his eyes. 

Even the little movements of sitting up makes Takashi ache. It should be just his shoulder, but all but the slightest movements send lightning up his spine.

While Shiro works on the Black Lion, Takashi looks over at Ryou. A new focus will help him ignore the pain, and Ryou had been limping. “You okay?”

“Funny question from the guy who just got shot.”

Takashi huffs, wishing he'd get the picture and stop bringing that up. But Ryou radiates worry so thickly it's difficult to forget. “And you got dangled by your leg by that general. I saw when you had her pinned. You were really going for it.”

Snorting, Ryou shrugs. “She was trying to crush my leg at the time, so I wasn't being very nice about it. Sue me. I figured if I yanked hard enough she'd lose concentration and let me go.”

Takashi hums, acknowledging that. His eyes track over to Shiro, who has one eye cracked open to follow the conversation. His lips are pulled down into a dark, thoughtful frown. “No go?”

“She's there,” Shiro admits. “But she's not paying me much mind. I'm not hers, apparently.”

Ryou snorts. Loudly. “Been there.”

Reaching out again, Takashi tugs on the bond, broadcasting his curiosity and the direness of the situation. He hurts. He wants to get to safety where he can be bandaged up. Why can't Shiro fly her?

He gets a serious rumble in return.  _ Theirs, _ the Black Lion says, with a vague impression toward the other Lion.  _ My sibling's. _

It reminds Takashi of his brief interaction with the other Lion. He could feel a connection, but he'd been acknowledged then dismissed.

That’s all well and good, but somebody needs to be able to pilot. Quiet needs back-up, and they all need to go. He wants to go home, and not wait for his arm to get better. He's going to need the pod for sure, or else this will take weeks.

There's a pause, as the Lion takes in his wounded, wistful tone. Then there's an impression like two pieces of a puzzle. They look like they should lock together right, but the image doesn't match up correctly.  _ My sibling's, _ the Black Lion repeats, using the same gesture, this time more sadly.

Maybe people from alternate universes just can't use other Lions? At least, that's the best Takashi has got right now.

Before he can protest again, he gets a flash of a memory. Himself in the cockpit, reaching out for the controls. But they don't react to him at all, and his expression falls into confused dismay.

No, that's not him. That's Ryou, before any of them knew he was a clone.

So why-

Oh.

“Ryou,” Takashi says, eyes still closed. His shoulder throbs in time with his heartbeat. “How are your arms?”

“Not shot,” Ryou replies, which really is an answer. “Why?”

“Switch with Shiro.”

There's a long pause. When Takashi opens his eyes, Ryou is staring like he's been slapped. “You—I mean, alright. That's... Never worked before but why not? Upsy-daisy, Shiro.”

Shiro glances between them both, one brow raised. But he's clearly not about to argue if it'll get them out of there. He lifts up easily, and swaps places with Ryou. “Quiet? How are you doing?”

“Fine for now,” Quiet says, though there's a deep element of strain to his voice. “They don't have much that can hurt the Lions while they're active. There's just a lot of them. I think more are coming from the buildings too, or else the ones that fled are coming back.”

Great.

Ryou's eyes are a little wild as he listens. “Okay, sitting here. Am I supposed to be connecting to anything? Because Black's still not talking to me.”

A memory flashes in Takashi's mind. Just moments before, when Ryou was trying to rip off Thren's arm. The Black Lion purrs in agreement.

Ah. Okay, Takashi thinks he knows why Black is willing to work for Ryou, now.

“I'll keep up the connection,” Takashi says, slumping back against the console. “You go to town. Do as much damage as you can.”

There’s a pause. Then Ryou lets out a disbelieving bark of laughter. But there’s a gleeful element too, like he's been given an early birthday present. “Yeah. That I can do.”

With that, the Black Lion leaps into motion. Outside of the chair, the inertia suppression isn't as effective, and he winces as he’s jostled. Opening his eyes seems like a lot of effort and a lot of energy, so instead he just leans back and breathes through the pain.

A hand comes down on Takashi's shoulder. He lets out a pained, animal noise from the back of his throat, one leg kicking out in instinctive protest. But the palm pushes down harder, until Takashi finally looks over. “Ow,” he groans out breathily.

Shiro winces, but doesn't let up. “I'd prefer it if you didn't pass out from blood loss. We lost the original first aid kit in the hangar explosion.  Try and stay awake. Was the other first aid kit still in the Lion?”

“Yeah,” Takashi says. “And medicine. He's good.”

Something unwinds in Shiro's expression. He nods, though his eyes don't stray from Takashi's shoulder.

Takashi looks over at the screen, just in time to see the Black Lion literally leap onto a building, sending it crumbling. As Black turns, Takashi gets a look at the hangar with the disruptor for the first time. The front half has been utterly crushed, and the back wall only barely continues to stand.

As he watches, there's a flash of bright blue from the other Lion. The tail laser cuts a line through the remaining Vogn, zig-zagging to get as many of them as possible, then slices clean through the remaining rubble. Something inside the hangar must have been flammable, because a fire catches, then starts to burn the remains. In ticks, the pile of rubble is ablaze, scattering the Vogn.

Inside the bond, the Black Lion hums with satisfaction. This is what anyone who wants to invade her reality deserves, especially if they hurt her paladin.

A screen pops up with Quiet's face. He seems amused to see Ryou in the pilot's seat, but clearly not enough to comment. “Looks like they're finally starting to retreat. Between the damage to their forces and their building, I think they're not coming after us for a while.  Judging by my map, we’ve wiped out all the important targets.”

“Godzilla playtime is over, then?” Ryou sighs but nods. “That's really up to the Lion. I'm just sort of jamming around the controls, like an arcade game on demo mode.”

Takashi prods Black, who grumbles but agrees. “Lead the way, Quiet. We can find some place to land and get Shiro back with you, then make sure we can get out of here.” The wings should be enough, but Takashi needs a bandage and maybe ten doboshes of rest before he gives that a shot. It's exhausting enough normally, and these are far from ideal circumstances.

Nodding, Quiet pulls back and flies up. The Black Lion lurches after, clumsier than normal but airborne.

As the Vogn camp gets smaller and disappears into the gloom, Takashi lets himself relax.

He can be satisfied about a job well done later. It's been a long, crazy couple of maybe-days, but they stopped a threat to Voltron no one had ever known was possible.  They saved their respective Lions and universes, despite the oddity of the situation.

But right now, Takashi can only be distantly happy about that. Only one thing really matters.

They're safe. They're going home.

All of them.


	9. Epilogue - Quiet and Ryou

Quiet soars through an eternally dusk sky in the Black Lion, with its contented mental purring rumbling distantly in the back of his head. Behind them, a second Black Lion follows, a little more unsteady in the air but somehow no less majestic for it. 

They’d done it. They’d  _ really  _ done it—busted in and out of an otherworldly facility to rescue not one but  _ two  _ Black Lions of Voltron. He’s done plenty of strange things in the few decafeebs he’s been alive, but this is definitely one of the weirder ones.

The Vogn have mostly given up following them, too. There are a few stragglers following in their strange organic ships, but they can’t really hold pace with either Black Lion—even the other one, with her strange, mentally jury-rigged pilot connection of Takashi’s and Ryou’s. 

Quiet loops around behind the second Black with his own Lion anyway. He picks off the chasers just to be safe, before kicking the wing jets to a higher capacity to do a few watchful patrol circuits.

“Show-off,” Ryou mutters, as his face blinks up in a holographic screen to Quiet’s left. Takashi and Shiro appear in a second screen, with the latter keeping pressure on a nasty-looking injury on the former’s arm.

“First of all, I’m not showing off,” Quiet says, rolling his eyes, “and second, who are you to talk? I bet if these were the Yellow Lions you’d be doing loops and smashing through trees or whatever all over the place.”

“He’s right,” Takashi says. “You would. Hell, you  _ have,  _ during Lion swap training.”

Ryou actually  _ pouts,  _ an altogether strange thing to see on any form of Shiro’s face. “Traitor. You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“Mm,” Takashi mutters tiredly. 

He really doesn’t look good, which sobers the mood considerably. Quiet asks Black for more speed, and is able to dart ahead of the slower-paced second Black Lion, sweeping the forest below them until he finds a place for them to stop. 

“Here,” he says finally. “Should be enough space for both Black Lions.” 

Ryou obligingly heads to the indicated spot, and carefully touches down in the clearing. It’s a bit of a rocky landing, but all things considered, Quiet is still impressed. Half of flying a Voltron Lion isn’t about actual piloting skills at all; it’s about the mental connection with the Lion itself that lets the living ship do most of the work, with the pilot making the important calls. Based on what Quiet had overheard on the comms, Ryou doesn’t really have that second piece. That means even if he’s got visuals, he’s still flying blind in an entirely different sense of the word. The fact that he’d made the landing at all says more than enough about his skills as a pilot. 

Quiet does one last circuit over them with his own Black Lion, just to be certain they’d lost any tails. He doesn’t see any Vogn following them, and Black doesn’t sense anything, either.

_ My sister and I will warn of danger, if it comes,  _ Black says, content, as Quiet guides it down into the clearing across from the other Lion. 

There’s that term again. The Black Lion had used it before, when Quiet had been afraid for Takashi’s, Shiro’s, and Ryou’s safety during the Vogn army’s relentless attacks.  _ My sister comes. She will watch them for us. We must ensure these beings do not threaten our paladins again.  _ It had puzzled Quiet then, too, but there had been no time to question it further.

Now there is.  _ You keep calling the other Black Lion ‘sister,’  _ Quiet notes.  _ Do you...already know her? From before this?  _

But Black is suspiciously silent as it sits back on its haunches and lowers its head to the ground, jaws open. It doesn’t speak again, and the message is clear. 

“Fine,” Quiet grumbles, as he snatches the first aid bag from its hidden compartment. “Keep your weird inter-reality secrets.” 

He swears the Black Lion feels amused in his head as he walks out the front hatch. 

The others are still inside the other Black Lion, but that’s not much of a surprise. Ryou had been limping, and Takashi was obviously injured enough that moving him around too much would be a bad idea. The other Black obligingly opens her jaws for Quiet as he approaches, though, and as he steps inside her mouth hatch he can feel her presence, if distantly. 

“Hello,” he greets politely, as he walks up the ramp. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you when you’re conscious.” 

This Black feels a lot farther away—sort of like his connection had been with his own, before he’d bonded as himself, and not as a copy of Shiro. But he can still feel a regal sort of acknowledgement, like royalty had just nodded to him. It feels almost but not quite like a ‘thanks for trying, anyway.’ 

“I don’t suppose  _ you’d  _ be willing to share the weird inter-reality secrets?” Ryou asks, hopeful. “Maybe explain how you’re our Black Lion’s sister when you’re also the same?”

Again, he can’t really make out words, but he can definitely feel a very queenly disapproval, like she’s staring down at him from a very high throne.

“Right,” Ryou says. “Sorry. My bad. Won’t ask again.” 

He makes his way to the Black Lion’s cabin, and finds the other three still inside. Ryou’s still at the pilot’s seat, though now he’s twisted around to watch behind him where Takashi’s sitting against one of the consoles. Shiro’s kneeling next to him, still with his hands pressed to Takashi’s injury to stem the blood flow. As Quiet enters all three look up, relieved.

“Got our first aid bag,” Quiet says, already shuffling it open. “Takashi’s up first—and the rest of you will  _ sit down,”  _ he finishes, shooting both Shiro and Ryou warning looks as they try to move. He puts a bit of Shiro’s command tone into his voice without even thinking about it. “ _ All  _ of you got injured out there, so  _ all  _ of you are getting looked at before we go anywhere.”

Ryou looks ready to argue, but winces a moment later when he moves his injured leg, and sags in the seat. “Fine,” he grumbles. Shiro, at least, knows better than to argue with Quiet when on the receiving end of his own lecture voice. He only disobeys long enough to keep pressure on Takashi’s injury until Quiet’s ready to treat it.

Takashi’s injury isn’t great, but it’s not life threatening, at least not yet. Quiet is able to clean and bandage it after cutting back some of the frayed paladin suit. It’s a rough patch job, but it should hold him until they go through the rifts and he can get to a cryo-pod. Once he’s done, Quiet presses a pouch of water from the first aid bag into Takashi’s good hand, and orders him to drink. Takashi does so slowly, with small sips, but the color seems to return to his face a little as he does.

Ryou is harder to treat—Quiet can’t really tell if anything in his leg has been broken, and there’s not much he can do other than offer his counterpart a couple of painkillers and a few bandages on some scrapes and cuts. Shiro is even harder—most of his injuries came from the shockrods. While the paladin suit had prevented any serious burning, there’ll probably be nerve and quintessence damage for the pods to contend with later. 

“I think that’s the best we’re going to do,” Shiro says eventually, as Quiet snaps the first aid bag shut again. 

“Agreed,” Quiet says. “Time to think about getting out of here, which raises the point...how do we do that?”

Takashi raises an eyebrow. He still looks tired, but he’s not out of the fight yet. “I’d think that would be the easy part. Fly through the rifts using the wings, just like how we got here.”

“Yes,” Quiet says, “but which rift is which? And for that matter, is there a way to close it after us, to guarantee the Vogn can’t follow? We may have destroyed their linchpin and a lot of their army, but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous.” He glances over at Ryou, and Shiro follows suit.

Ryou raises an eyebrow. “Why are you staring at me?”

Quiet shrugs. “You’re kind of our back-up Pidge, aren’t you? I was kind of hoping you’d have some techno-babble solution.” 

“Please,” Ryou says. “I fly  _ Yellow.  _ If anything, I’m the back-up Hunk.”

“Except you still can’t cook worth a damn,” Takashi observes.

“I still cook better than you do, and I’m the one without taste,” Ryou retorts. 

“Guys,” Shiro interrupts. “Escaping. Kind of important.” 

“Agreed,” Ryou says. “But regardless of which back-up I am, sorry, I don’t have a magical science solution. I build machines, not rifts to other realities. You could always guess and hope you show up in the right reality.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “I have a feeling that might not go over so well if we guess wrong.” 

Ryou rolls his eyes. “ _ You’d  _ have an easy time of it, it’s me and Quiet who would stand out like sore thumbs.” 

“Ironic, considering the last time,” Quiet says dryly. Ryou snorts.

“This really isn’t helping us get home,” Shiro says, exasperated.

“That’s alright,” Takashi says, closing his eyes. For a moment, Quiet is worried he’s passing out, until he feels a distant purring in the back of his head, and realizes Takashi is talking to his Lion. He tries to listen in on the conversation, but it feels distant and fuzzy, like a bad radio connection. A quick glance at Shiro’s slight frown of concentration indicates he’s having the same problem.

Fortunately, Takashi is willing to share with the rest of them. “Black says she and the other Lion should be able to sense the rift they came from,” he says after a moment. “And that if we concentrate when we pass through, we can sort of...pull the door closed behind us, when we go through it. The Vogn won’t be able to open it from this side again...not for a very long time, anyway.” He opens his eyes. 

“Well that’s convenient,” Ryou says. “Assuming nobody slingshots themselves across the universe in the process.” He gives Takashi a very pointed look. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“Are you really going to be able to use the wings like that?” Quiet asks, frowning. They’d done a decent patch job on his arm, but even so…

“I can last,” Takashi says. “I just need to get us through the rift and close it. The Castle of Lions is right on the other side. Even if something does happen, help is right there.” 

It’s not the greatest solution, but it’s not like they have any other choice. Quiet nods grimly in agreement. 

“Then we’re all set,” Shiro says. “Which means this is goodbye, I suppose.” 

It does, but Quiet is struck rather suddenly that this is the last time he’ll ever see either of these people again. Even if they had met under extreme duress in very dangerous circumstances, it’s still a strange and uncomfortable thought.

The others seem to agree. Takashi struggles to his feet, and Ryou helps him up, wincing a little as he keeps pressure off of his bad leg. He helps Takashi lean against the pilot’s chair as Shiro and Quiet rise as well, until the four of them are standing in a little circle just behind the seat. 

Shiro’s the one to move first. He offers a hand to Ryou, who blinks at it for a moment before shaking it. “I mean this in the nicest way possible,” Shiro says, “but I hope things don’t get bad enough that we ever meet again.” 

“If it means another crazy inter-reality nightmare like this? Hell no,” Ryou agrees, but he’s grinning as he says it. 

Takashi offers his own natural hand to Quiet, who takes it carefully, mindful of Takashi’s balance. “Thanks for teaching me more about the astral plane,” Takashi says, smiling a little. “I’ll have to practice that more back home.”

“Any time,” Quiet agrees. He hesitates, glances in the direction of Shiro and Ryou—they’re chatting over something that happened during their part of the adventure, he thinks—and then reaches into the med kit bag, pulling out his own failsafe pills. “Here,” he says, selecting one and handing it over carefully.

Takashi frowns. “You need those.”

“I’ve got plenty more now, and we’re going home—there’s more where that came from,” Quiet explains. “They’re easier to synthesize if you’ve got a baseline to start with. Even if you don’t…” He shrugs. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Takashi accepts it gravely, tucking it away safely into one of the belt pouches. “Thank you. Really.” 

Quiet nods. 

“—mber what I told you,” Ryou says, as Quiet tunes back into the other conversation.

“I will,” Shiro promises. He turns to say his goodbyes to his own counterpart, and Ryou limps around him over to Quiet, offering his own hand in farewell.

Quiet takes it automatically, and realizes his mistake a fraction of a tick too late, as Ryou smirks and drags him into a hug. Quiet makes an indignant noise of protest, but he’s more mad at himself for not seeing it coming. Hell, he’d pulled the same trick on Matt when he’d still thought he was Shiro.

“You’re doing this just to be annoying, aren’t you?” Quiet observes dryly.

“A little,” Ryou says. Quiet can practically hear him grinning. “But, seriously? Despite all the differences, it’s been kind of nice to know I’m not the only me. I’m glad I got to meet you.” 

Quiet blinks at that. But despite their many,  _ many  _ differences, this is one point where they are certainly on the same page. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, raising his free hand to return the hug. “I get that. Me, too.” 

“Wow. That’s what, three whole things we agree on?”

“About that,” Quiet says. And after a moment, more softly, he adds, “I hope everything works out for you, with...you know.”

“One way or another we’ll figure it out,” Ryou says. “But thanks for the heads up.”

Quiet nods.

“Alright,” Ryou says, pushing away, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m about ready to get the hell out of here.”

“I think we’re all in agreement there,” Shiro says. “We’ll head back to our Lion, then. We should probably time it so we leave relatively in sync. The less warning we give the Vogn to stop us closing those rifts, the better.”

“Makes sense,” Takashi says. He wearily leverages himself into the pilot’s seat. “We’ll wait for you, then.” 

It doesn’t take them long to get back to their own Black Lion. Black greets them warmly as Shiro settles into the pilot’s seat and Ryou takes a position next to it. The Lion seems just as eager to go home as they are, and agrees with the other Black’s assessment that it can find and close their rift with its paladin’s help. 

“We good to go?” Ryou asks, as his face pops up on a holographic screen. A second screen for Takashi appears above his.

“Almost,” Quiet says. “One other thing.” He reaches over to one of the consoles and taps several keys, preparing a transmission to send. “Here—data logs. Should have information on major battles or opponents.”

“Good idea.” Shiro taps a few keys as well. “There. I’ve added records for the failsafe data, just in case.”

“And,” Quiet finishes with a flourish, grinning at Ryou, “schematics for my arm. Give’em to the Ryner in your reality—she can figure it out no problem.”

Ryou’s eyes light up. “Excellent,” he says, clearly already delighted at the prospect of studying them. 

Takashi looks less than thrilled at the prospect, but dutifully taps out several keys on their end. “Received your transmission—and here’s one from us, too. If we can save you a few tricky fights, it’s worth it.” 

The console beeps, indicating the transmission was also successfully received. Quiet swipes it aside for study later. “Got it. Alright—let’s all go home, then.”

As if in agreement, both Black Lions roar, before leaping into the air. Despite their enormous sizes, they’re shockingly graceful around each other, serving easily to avoid collision as they both sense their respective rifts.

“Got ours,” Takashi says. “This one over here.”

“Perfect,” Shiro says, as he pulls back on the controls, twisting them to face their own gaping scar in the sky. “Because Black says this one is ours. Ready?”

“As we’ll ever be,” Ryou says. 

“Great. Good luck with the Galra,” Shiro says. “It’s been an honor fighting with you both.”

“Same to you,” Takashi says, nodding back.

“On the count of three,” Quiet says. “One—two— _ three! _ ”

Both Black Lions roar forward towards their respective rifts. Quiet can feel Shiro’s concentration building as he prepares to summon the wings, but he also hangs back, just a tad. In the cabin of the Black Lion, where their mental communication is at is fastest, Quiet can almost immediately feel why.

_ Hanging back to be sure they make it?  _ He asks, over the mental thought-link that’s infinitely faster than spoken word.

_ He wasn’t looking so good,  _ Shiro responds the same way.  _ Just in case. If he can’t do it, they’re both stuck here, and they could use our help.  _

Quiet agrees.  _ You prepare. I’ll watch.  _ He brings up a holo screen to watch the Black Lion roaring towards the opposite rift, out of visual range of either of their counterparts. Neither Takashi nor Ryou would have heard their mental conversation; there’s no need to let them know about it. 

But their fears are unfounded. As Quiet watches, the other Black Lion’s wingplates suddenly unfurl into majestic metallic wings, and even at this distance Quiet can hear the Black Lion roaring. Her whole body seems to blur as she soars forward into the massive crack in the sky. There’s a great crackle of energy that reverberates through Quiet’s chest and seems to shake the entire riftworld, and the tear in the sky begins to knit itself together, faster and faster, until with one last flicker, the first rift is gone.

_ They did it! They’re out!  _ Quiet reports.  _ Go! _

Shiro doesn’t have to be told twice. He slams both of the control levers forward with a snarl of determination, and Quiet can feel the energy of the Black Lion building around him suddenly. He can’t see the wings, but he knows the moment the wingplates extend fully, because he can feel it in the Black Lion’s joy and in the rush of freedom that nearly overwhelms him. It’s so much power, so much potential, all at Shiro’s fingertips. 

The Black Lion is always fast, but now it’s speed is mind-blowing. They hit the center of the rift in ticks, and soar into the dead center of the scar in the sky, through the tear in reality itself. The Black Lion roars again, and Quiet can feel Shiro’s mind reaching out to grab at the edges of those tears, guided by the Black Lion, trying to tug them closed behind him. Without even thinking, Quiet reaches out to add his own strength to the mix, doing what he can to help force the edges together, to seal them shut forever, tugging on the infinite edges of reality harder and harder until—

There’s a flash of white, and suddenly Quiet sees stars.

For a moment, he wonders if he’s been hit on the head. Then he realizes he’s seeing real,  _ actual  _ stars, all around him in the wide expanse of the universe. After who only knows how long in that eternal, starless dusk, the beautiful, distant points of light of a thousand galaxies is a wonderful sight.

“We made it,” Shiro rasps. He looks exhausted, and Quiet can feel his fatigue through the mental link. He feels drained, too, and for that matter, so does Black. But there’s pride and relief in there too, all the same.

“Did the rift close?”

Shiro turns the Black Lion back to face the way they came. Sure enough, where the rift had once existed, a gaping hole in the fabric of space, there’s now nothing at all. “Success,” Shiro says, breathing a sigh of relief.

“That was quick,” someone says over the radio. Quiet half expects it to be Ryou or Takashi, but when the visuals pop up onscreen, it’s the other paladins—Keith, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Allura, with Coran and Matt off to one side. 

“What happened to the rift?” Pidge asks, curious. “It was just there a moment ago.”

Quiet and Shiro blink, exchanging glances. Nobody has bat an eyelid at all at Quiet’s Olkari green armor, which means they definitely made it back to the right reality. But nobody seems alarmed over them both having gone missing in the Black Lion for an undetermined amount of time, either.

“How long have we been gone?” Quiet asks, frowning.

“Like...a varga, maybe? Varga and a half?” Hunk offers. “We’re still way inside your three varga time limit before mounting a rescue. Why? Something wrong?”

“Are you hurt?” Keith adds, ever practical, eyeing both Shiroganes suspiciously. “You look tired.”

“It’s...it’s a long story,” Shiro admits, as he pushes the controls forward and guides Black towards the Castle. 

It’s a story that has to wait, at least for a while. The moment Coran realizes that it’s been a lot longer than a varga and a half for Shiro and Quiet, he insists on triage. As expected, Shiro is immediately shuttled off to a cryopod for nerve damage repairs from the shockrods. 

Quiet, by some miracle, avoids the same treatment. He’s a little banged up from the initial crash into the Vogn rift, but after that he’d more or less avoided injury other than a few bruises and scrapes. Coran does insist on a few scans to check on his health after learning Quiet’s failsafe dosages had been significantly delayed, but although Quiet had apparently cut it  _ very  _ close, that time around, he had not actually started sustaining initial failsafe damages. Coran insists on monitoring it for a few quintents, but overall it’s a bullet Quiet had just narrowly dodged. 

But it does delay telling the story until well into the evening, and they end up sharing it together with the rest of the team over dinner, in between second and third helpings. Quiet is ravenous; a single ration bar definitely hadn’t been enough for that whole ordeal. 

“Aww,” Lance mutters, once they finish. “Now I wish I’d hitched a ride. I want to meet the other-Shiro and other-Ryou, too.” He grins. “Other-Ryou sounds like he has a great sense of humor.”

“You would think that,” Quiet mutters.

“I’m with Lance on this one,” Matt says. “That’s twice now you guys have gone on alternate reality adventures and I haven’t been involved either time. Why did Olia have to call me away for a conference today of all quintents?”

“It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be,” Shiro admits. “You didn’t miss all that much.”

“Other than the fact that apparently other you doesn’t have a scar,” Quiet adds, gesturing at the healed slash on Matt’s face. 

“Weird,” Matt says, thoughtful. 

The team is full of questions, but both Quiet and Shiro are exhausted, and promise to answer them the next day. They’re disappointed, but Coran shoos them away, insisting on letting both Shiroganes get their rest. Quiet gives Coran a grateful look as the two of them slip away down the hall, and then sighs in relief as they head for the paladin’s quarters.

“Good to be back,” Shiro says, nodding in agreement, with his own relieved sigh. Quiet grunts in acknowledgement. 

“Which means you can go back to being ‘Ryou’ again,” he adds, nudging Quiet with an elbow.

Quiet—no, Ryou,  _ Ryou,  _ right—grins sheepishly. The team had addressed him by his actual name several times in the storytelling process, but he’d gotten so used to that name meaning his counterpart he’d almost forgotten to respond the first few times. 

He’ll get used to it again quickly enough, though...and it is a bit of a relief. “Thank goodness,” he admits. “If I had to listen to one more ‘quiet’ crack…” 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “You could have changed your nickname,” he points out. “If you really hated it that much.”

“Are you kidding? And let the other Ryou  _ win?”  _ Ryou counters, scowling a little. “I’d never have heard the end of it. I figured he’d run out of ‘quiet’ jokes eventually. There’s only so many puns to be had.”

“I think you severely underestimated him in that regard,” Shiro says, trying hard to suppress a smile.

“Clearly,” Ryou mutters.

“Speaking of the other Ryou, though,” Shiro says thoughtfully, as they round the corner to the paladin’s quarters. “When Thren caught us, he didn’t know who she was at first. But after he learned she was responsible for almost tearing off Takashi’s arm, he got very…” he considers the word carefully for a moment, before finishing with, “...determined, to take her down. He  _ wanted  _ it to be his fight. Didn’t want my help at all.”

Ryou has a feeling they’re treading on delicate ground. “And?” he asks.

“It was almost funny,” Shiro says slowly. “After that, in their Lion, he acted like it was no big deal. But he was really ready to tear Thren’s arm off before that. It was like a switch had been flipped. Almost a different person. Takashi seemed to buy it, though.” He eyes Ryou thoughtfully. “What do you think of that?”

Ryou uses every ounce of concentration to keep his uneasiness from showing on his face.  _ Terkon never happened,  _ he reminds himself sharply,  _ so there’s no reason to panic.  _

But Shiro’s getting a little...uncomfortably close to the truth with that question. Ryou doesn’t blame his counterpart in the least for reacting as he had—hell, if their positions had been reversed, he can’t guarantee he wouldn’t have done the same, or found some other way to punish Thren for her crimes against his predecessor. He’s done it before.

_ No, he hasn’t. That never happened. So there’s nothing to find out. Ever.  _

He doesn’t blame his counterpart in the least, but it  _ does  _ make things much trickier on his end.

Still, Ryou merely raises an eyebrow at Shiro’s question, and says, “Are you honestly comparing me to him? Even knowing him for only a couple weird reality-days, it’s clear his first reaction to any threat is to punch it.”

Shiro stares at him for a long moment, expression still thoughtful. Ryou meets his eyes stare for stare, forcing patience and indulgent exasperation in place of nervousness.  _ Nothing happened, so there’s nothing for him to find.  _

And it works, because after a moment Shiro nods. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Just another weird quirk of his, I suppose.” 

“We’re very different versions of the same person,” Ryou agrees.  _ Except, ironically, in this.  _ But Shiro never needs to know that.

Shiro laughs softly. “Were you ever. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound suspicious or anything. It was just...kind of alarming to watch.”

“You’re just tired,” Ryou says. “It’s been a really long...however long it’s been.” Close to four quintents, as far as anyone can guess, but it’s still hard to be sure. 

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees, and as if in response, he yawns. “Alright. I’m heading to bed. Have a good night, then.”

“Same to you,” Ryou agrees, and they disappear into their respective rooms. 

It feels good to be home again, in his own room and his own bed, and he can feel his exhaustion pulling at him as he settles under the covers. But even so, he lays awake for a little while, his mind drifting past the same thoughts over and over again.

He’s not the only Ryou to ever exist. He’s not practically an impossibility. And he could even, with time, and with effort, become more of his own person than he already is. It’s all proven possible. 

It’s a strangely comforting thought, and at last he’s able to settle into a comfortable, dreamless rest, ready for all the new potential tomorrow brings.

***

"There you are," Ryou greets cheerfully.  He vaults over the back of the rec room couch, jostling Shiro with his heavy landing.  "I've been looking for you. Ready to head out soon?"

Shiro hums, not looking up from his tech pad.  Data continues to scroll by quickly as Shiro checks over what he's sending.  Their allies can have all the basic information from the other universe they want, but he's going to keep personal information  _ personal.  _  "I have a conference call with Kolivan in a varga.  We can head to Olkarion after."

Nodding his understanding, Ryou settles in comfortably, hands folded over his stomach.  "Coalition stuff?"

"I'm going to have them look into the information we got," Shiro says.  "There were a number of planets they should avoid, if it applies to our universe as well.  Including some very worrying information about a future target we were looking at."

"Yeah?"  Ryou scoots over and peers over Shiro's shoulder, reading the information.  "Well, damn. It was a shitty few days, but we made out like bandits, huh? Future problems, the failsafe stuff, targets to watch out for.  All they got from us was that one weapon's facility, really."

Shiro glances at him, not objecting to Ryou's invasion of his personal space.  On another day he might, but what he learned about the failsafe is too close. "We didn't exactly compare missions.  They might find our information just as valuable. Besides, it was a good learning experience if only for the Vogn. We both stopped an invasion before we could be hurt by it."

Shrugging, Ryou huffs.  "Fine, I guess. It just feels uneven, you know?"

"I think the other two got plenty out of it."

If nothing else, Shiro suspects just interacting with Ryou was probably good for Quiet and the other Shiro.  Annoying as his brother can be, it was proof that there was more to Quiet than being a second Shiro. Maybe he wouldn't chose to go that exact route, but he thinks it's healthy for Quiet to at least have the possibility.  He's seen how much pride Ryou has in his own existence, after all. Besides, having an alternate perspective has helped their own universe more times than Shiro can count. Ryou  _ thinks _ different, which means he comes at solutions from a different angle.  

But saying that out loud is either going to make Ryou preen or make him argue.  Shiro doesn't particularly feel up to either.

So instead he flips the pad over and meets Ryou's eyes.  "What did Coran say?"

Immediately, Ryou's expression falls.  "Well, my DNA is definitely different from Quiet's.  He's a better clone. Identical except for one teeny tiny difference we wouldn't have seen at all if it wasn't pointed out."  He shrugs one shoulder and looks away. "If I have the failsafe, it's not the same way Quiet does. But that's not saying much, since Haggar made me so different."

"Well, at least we know what to look out for."  Shiro knocks their shoulders together. "Not having it is a good thing."

Ryou meets his gaze blandly.  "Until I start showing the signs, and we have no idea where to look to fix it."

"For which we have medicine," Shiro shoots back, unmoved.  "We're prepared."

Finally, Ryou nods.  He slumps to the side, making Shiro hold up some of his weight.  He does so with only a grunt of complaint. 

Ryou is the one who nearly always initiates touches between them, and right now Shiro feels desperate for it.  As hard as he's trying to sound confident, a chill sets into his bones. They can't know for sure until Ryou starts showing symptoms.  They're prepared, but he'd rather save Ryou the pain. He also doesn't really want to watch his brother decline.

Right now, what they both need is not to dwell on it.

"Yellow glad to have you back?"

Ryou nods and beams.  "Yeah. He's kinda grumpy that I 'flew' Black, which is fantastic.  I have some making up to do, even if I didn't really do anything but wiggle around the controls for a few minutes.  Black doing okay now that she's home? She hasn't decided to upgrade to the cooler twin after all?"

Elbowing him hard, Shiro rolls his eyes.  "No, she hasn't. Thank you for your concern.  I doubt that she'd be very interested even if she could.  I didn't leave two bodies to rot inside her for who knows how long."

Ryou goes pink and jolts away, leaving Shiro's arm cold.  "We didn't exactly get a chance to dump them, did we? And then we were busy with other stuff.  Besides, now we get to bring them to the Olkari. Who knows what they can learn from it?" His expression suddenly goes sly, then blank.  "Speaking of-"

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say!"

"I'm not getting a new arm."

Ryou groans as if Shiro's refusal is a personal attack.  "Quiet's arm is so much better! It's only a step up. An upgrade in every way."

All Shiro does is stare him down, his chest cold.  Ryou isn't wrong, but Shiro doesn't care. They don't have time for him to adjust to a new arm.  And, frankly, Shiro's gone through that once. He has no desire to do it again.

Finally, Ryou sighs and flops back.  "Fine! Fine. Be wrong. See if I care.  But you should bring the plans to them anyway."

"Ryou," Shiro starts, voice low and unamused.

"Who said it was for you?" Ryou shot back.  "Maybe it's for me. It's  _ my _ counterpart's arm.  Or what about when one of our arms breaks, huh?  They're machines, they can malfunction or be damaged.  Or what if someone else needs an amputation? There's a hundred thousand ways any of the humans out there could need a replacement limb.  Why not have it read-”

Shiro puts a hand over his mouth, stalling Ryou's increasingly loud list.  "Okay. Fine. So long as you promise to drop replacing my arm, at least until I can't use this one anymore.  Promise?"

Eyes flashing, Ryou shakes Shiro's hand off.  "I promise until the end of the Olkarion visit.  Not forever."

Damn him.

That's the best Shiro's going to get, so he sighs then nods.  "Fine. Until tomorrow at least."

Ryou scowls, but nods back.  "Deal." He flops against Shiro's side again, with an air of being passive aggressive about it.  Then he pauses. "Your other arm is good, right?"

"The pod took care of it all."  Shiro sighs and leans back into him.  "You're annoying, you know that?"

"I do, actually."  Ryou beams at the insult, which was Shiro's intention.  "You're pretty annoying too."

Shiro only hums and picks up his pad again.  He tilts it so Ryou can see without straining.

Despite how they bicker, just having Ryou around is a balm.  Shiro relaxes as he settles in.

Before he finishes skimming, there's a pressure on his shoulder.  Ryou's head flops against him, and his breathing is slow and deep.

Neither are quite caught up on sleep after their long few days in the rift.  Shiro's looking forward to bed, too, but he has a meeting coming up, and then the flight to Olkarion.

Except Ryou is warm against his side, and his breathing is slow and deep.  Unpained. Peaceful.

He's alive and safe and healthy.

Shiro closes his eyes and leans against his brother in turn.  He sets an alarm for half an hour, just in case, and lets himself settle in.

They're better prepared for the future, now.  And they're together and with the team.

That's all Shiro needs.

Well, maybe that and a nap.


End file.
